Savior's Song
by Evening Pen
Summary: When fate pulls Saya and Solomon together again, the red queen must decide whether it's her human, or chiropteran heart she needs to follow. But will the shadows of the past blur Saya's vision of her newest future? SolomonxSaya, HajixSaya
1. Remember Me

A/N: Hello there, readers! This is my first Blood+ fanfiction, and I'm really excited! I'm afraid to reveal anything to important, so I don't have much to say yet. Please enjoy!

Dsclaimer: I do not own Blood+

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Savior's Song

Chapter One: Remember Me

_Remember me, once in a while; please promise me you'll try._

_Then you'll find, that once again you long, to take your heart back and be free._

_If you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me._

_(Phantom of the Opera)_

--

It was so...quiet...

Watching, waiting. Whispers of the past haunting him; creeping in and out of his head, an ever-constant reminder of his beloved centuries with her.

It was so excruciatingly quiet.

Everything had proved so painfully fruitless. Pacing, sitting, trying to sleep even though hundreds of attempts has proved it obviously impossible.

He'd run away countless times. He'd try to sever himself from her during her sleeping period to spare himself the heartbroken agony of her seemingly lifeless form. He would take off, casting off his dependence of her, only to run back day, minutes, even seconds later to apologize for his lack of attentiveness, or for not returning sooner after the first of many hallucinations of her awaking alone, cold and frightened, without him to comfort her.

But he would always weather it for her.

Always returning to a grotesque, agonizing quiet.

He had mad a promise. He had made her see that in this world, there would be life worth living when she woke up. He was going to prove it to her.

* * *

It was so...warm...

Laughing, living; little bits and pieces of inhumanly long life consuming him. Familiar faces from a childhood long since past, and a past that seemed, but couldn't possibly have been, centuries away. As he watched his life slowly play before his eyes, the faces that wouldn't have been out of place in a video documentary began distorting themselves into the only one that mattered.

It was so sweet and warm.

For the first time since he had willingly given up his human life in favor of an 'improved' new one, he found himself dreaming. He was engulfed in the fantasies and dreams that had once consumed his conscious mind. If there was wasn't an annoying, almost insignificant piercing sensation jabbing slightly at the edges of his appendages, pulling him out of his seraphic reveries, he would have been sure he'd passed on into the afterlife.

But he wasn't dead, the faint heartbeat he could feel accompanying every progressively painful stab proved that. Somehow, he was alive. And with life, came hope. She had unwittingly taught him that.

It was so heavenly warm.

* * *

It was so...strange...

Killing, crying, kissing, crashing. Fighting family to save the world that they knew, fleeing the world too soon every time. Befriending both innocent people and unlikely allies and saying good-bye. It was coming back so easily now. Her long sleep had always been so quiet and warm, an almost welcome intrusion after the calamity that unleashed itself whenever she was conscious.

It was so confusing, so odd, so strange.

From the moment she gave in and closed her eyes, everything began replaying itself inside her head. So many painful memories, so many friends destroyed because of what she was, and who her sister had become. But somehow, mixed in with the horrible tragedies and unforgivable crimes, were happy times and moments that stood out clearly, she would have sworn he was wide awake.

It was so unbelievably strange.

Of course, there was a part of her that yearned for the quiet, warn, and dreamless sleep-- One that wouldn't taunt her of a future that would never be. She wasn't sure how long her unconscious mind could tolerate the torment of seeing the face of the man she would never see again over and over and over; The face of the man who had convinced her that there was a life worth living.

Well, men...

So it was so strange when she fully registered that her hibernation was coming to an end. How she consciously felt her heartbeat getting faster and faster as alertness overcame sleep. How she felt when, for the first time in decades, she could fully appreciate the presence she perceived next to her.

It was so wonderfully strange.

* * *

It was so...close...

Dieing, deceiving, dealing out a punishment that was not there's to give. A monster out of medieval fairytales. A creature punishing even the purest in society by merely being alive. A fiend with the power to destroy the world. Surely something like that should not exist.

It was so unbearably close.

But it would soon be over. Soon, they would take back humanity. The fight that would forever ensure the protection of humans would was rapidly approaching.

It was so close.

They could feel it.

* * *

Everything was so close...

* * *

A/N: Wow, chapter one completed! Please Review and stay tuned!


	2. Welcome Me

A/N: Hello again! I hope you enjoyed the last chapter. Each little segment was following a different person, but I'm pretty sure you all caught on to that (obvious writer much? haha). The story is rated M for later chapters, and just as a precaution. Here's the next installment of Savior's Song! Enjoy!  
Oh! And a special thanks to silence inthexRAIN! Mt first review ever. :3

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Chapter 2: Welcome me

_Welcome me to a haven given._

_Oh, it's well received into my open arms._

_Oh, I ran in my sleep through the shaking tremors._

_I felt the splitting earth echoing in my ears._

_And I feel it all._

_(Indigo Girls)_

_--_

_I'm going to count to ten. When I get to ten, you will open your eyes, and no longer be hypnotized._

It was almost like she was bargaining with her own hibernation. Narrating the chain of events to herself, step by step, to make sure it would really happen.

'I'm going to count to ten,' she thought to herself. 'When I get to ten, I am going to open my eyes, and be no long asleep.'

1…2…3

She was so conscious! So much more so than she could ever remember being, save for her active periods. Her thoughts coming alive before her eyes—the colors and scenes seemed so real and tangible, nothing like any dream she's dreamt before. But those strange and horrible and beautiful visions were nothing, nothing compared to what she felt waiting next to her.

Her beloved. He was waiting there, his chiropteran heart beating slower and stranger than any humans', but was so recognizable to her. He was there…

He was alive.

4…5…

Every time she'd come close to feeling fully awake, clouds would find themselves in front of her eyes, pulling her back down into sleep, and to dreams, and to the past.

6…7…

It was her full awareness of it that stumped her. What had changed this time around? Any test the Red Shield conducted on her (those with her consent, anyway) had found that a queen's hibernation was merely a result of the excess energy it took to sustain her bodily functions. The energy and adrenaline it took to heal even the deadliest wounds; to produce a blood powerful enough to turn the sickliest man or woman into a mask of beauty and perfection, and endow them with immortality.

"All the technology in the world can't come close to what your blood can do," Julia Silverstein had once explained, almost jokingly, with a smile. "Think of your body, and Diva's as well, as little factories: if you don't close down for the night, let all of the workers rest, then you'll overheat, overexert yourself." She shrugged a little.

" Of course, it's apparent neither you nor Diva have any say in the matter of hibernation, and obviously," She paused apologetically-She was practically fumbling to explain it in layman's terms, "It's most than just a night, but I think you get the picture."

8…

Well, she could think of at least one thing that changed since last time.

Diva…

9…

There was no longer any Diva.

It was frightening at first, once she became aware of it. She's slept through the dreams and nightmares without any real thought until it hit her like a ton of bricks. It was an utter shock, and the worst one, she determined, third only to her discovery of her chiropteran heritage, and the one she felt then the ceiling of the Met can crumbling down, taking something very special with it. But her only family by blood—destroyed. Nevertheless, the crimes and tragedies she committed were forever behind them.

She could look to the future with contentment.

10…10…10…

Damn…

She pulled through her mind and tried to find her most precious memories. 'If I'm going to sleep, I may as well be happy,' she thought. But these memories were special. They had been too painful to register when she'd been immersed in the visions of her past. But she rejoiced that thinking of them now, now that he was waiting patiently for her.

"This is Haji, he's going to be living with us." Joel…she still couldn't bring herself to hate him.

"Maybe it is because you are so selfish, Saya…" She laughed inwardly at that one…

"We're a family! We stick together, just like the rice in this book holds it together." Her one and only beloved father.

"I have always loved you Saya…" Haji…

"From the first day I met you, and you smiled at me. I was brought to that house to serve you, and in exchange, you filled my lonely days with comfort, hope and happiness." Haji…

"Pease, Saya, you don't have to fight like this anymore. " My Haji…

"More than that, I am a man that loves you like no other…" My beloved…

Her heart skipped a beat. That one…that one wasn't Haji. That was not the heartfelt confessions of her silent love…no, no…that was Solomon Goldsmith, declaring his undying devotion and passion for her.

Her mind was practically reeling. In the midst of her fondest memories, her most treasured times, _that_ had somehow found it's way in. Her mind was a mixture of anger and confusion. Why was something like that worth remembering? Why hadn't her mind continued whispering Haji's sweet nothings into her ear? How could it be that Solomon's abrupt confession held such a distinct place in her memory?

And most importantly, how…how did his affirmation of love leave her heart fluttering almost as much as if Haji had showed as much impulsiveness?

She was still disputing it mentally when she realized warm liquid was being forced into her. She felt her heart race as it found it's way down her throat, sweet ambrosia pulling her out of her now seemingly unimportant mental debates.

Such a familiar taste. The scent, so musky, yet so sweet, a glorious oak surrounded by roses, a vintage wine accompanied by the most delectable fruits known to man; a feast fit for a king, the most worldly foods prepared by a genius, eaten my a starving man.

The most beautiful blue orbs found her and she pulled herself away. Azure eyes that could pierce diamonds sustained her unquenchable thirst. They were brimmed with tears, framed by impossibly long eyelashes, and the only thing in the world that mattered.

His smile, just a hint of his own blood running down the corner of his mouth, widened as he saw that she clearly registered his face.

"Welcome back, my queen."

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: Yay! Chapter completed! Please Review and stay tuned! :D


	3. Stay with Me

A/N: Hey everybody! I finally finished chapter 3. Yay! This is a pretty long chapter, but I'm really happy with it. I hope everyone liked the last chapter, too! but without further ado, here's chapter 3. Please enoy! :D

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Chapter 3: Stay with me

_Raindrops fall from everywhere,_

_I reach out for you but you are not there,_

_So I stood, waiting, in the dark,_

_With your picture in my hands,_

_Story on a broken heart,_

_Stay with me,_

_Don't let me go,_

'_Cause I can't live without you,_

_Just stay with me,_

_And hold me close_

_Because I've built my world around you._

_(Danity Kane)_

--

Alive! Alive! Alive!

Beauty! Happiness!

Sweet ecstasy! Joyous bliss! Heavenly Salvation!

My Savior…

"Saya…" Haji started softly, directing his deep, amiable voice to the woman sobbing into his chest. "Saya, please, please stop…"

He had been watching her for some time while she slept. The past year had been the hardest. He would always wait out her long sleeps patiently and quietly, finding his own personal escape from the loneliness within the fantasies his imagination prepared, of what their lives would one day be like when Diva was done away with, and when their fighting days would be forever behind them, and the world would finally let them live together the way it was always meant to be.

But this time was different. The past twelve months had been agony. He felt her heartbeat grow progressively faster and stronger as he sat obediently on the stone crypt floor beside her cocoon. It had finally started beating as fast and strong as any healthy, awake human would, even more so! But he was determined to wait it out. To let her awaken naturally again, lest another one of her few awakened periods be forever lost to him.

"Sshh, Saya, sshhh," He cooed, adjusting her so that she nestled comfortably in between his crossed legs as she continued to bury her face into his shirt. "It's alright, I'm here, sshh, my love, I'm here. Sshhh."

And she was here. That was the most important part. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so frightened. He'd gotten used to her fast heartbeats, and was determined to wait out her almost awaken hibernation with her. He'd gotten so used to the rhythmic pattern it seemed to make, the warm that radiated ever-so-slightly off of her body sheathed inside of her cocoon. Even though sleep was an ever-distant memory, the constant beating of her precious heart lulled him into a waking slumber. But then, suddenly…

Her heartbeat faltered. The heart he valued more than anything else had practically skipped a beat. The quick heartbeats he's grown used to skyrocketed almost instantly. Her heart thumped against her chest like a jackhammer, even though her body hadn't so much a twitched. The chiropteran equivalent of a human seizure, he remembered reasoning; One that no human could possibly live through…

He had been at her side in an instant, of course. Faster than the blink of an eye, crouching over her little shell. He'd begin ripping it apart furiously, convinced that this time, there was no solitary-brought on mirage. She could be dying for all he knew.

He had to save her before that happened.

'Screw the consequences,' he thought resolutely, as he scrambled to pull her out of her miniature refuge onto his lap as gently as possible. The heartbeats continued to increase in pace. Somewhere a symphony's tempo was increasing drastically. He laid her across his knees and cradled her neck and head in the crook of his arm. He bit ferociously though the long sleeve covering his other and bit down, too upset to even think about how much time it would take to roll it up.

He finally pressed his mouth passionately onto hers, forcing his tongue inside. He let his blood fall and drip in freely as he explored her mouth, his tongue moving around fervently, trying to help the blood move in between her lips, and help awaken her primal instincts to awaken, and to be alive again.

'I do not care if you go crazy…'

'I don't care if you try to kill me…'

'Please, Saya, my love, my sweet, my cherished…Stay with me…'

Her body jerked, and finally responded, though not the way he would have expected. Instead of deepening the kiss, or hungrily search for a new source of sustenance once the blood in his mouth had gone, she pulled away softly, and sat shivering on his lap, her hands clamped onto his shirt and face, and stared at him.

"Good morning, my queen," he had whispered, relief taking the form of tears in his eyes.

She crumpled into his chest before the first tear reached his cheek, and had been inconsolable ever since.

"Saya…" he pleaded. He was getting worried. He put his hands under her arms and lifted her so that her legs slid under her and her face was parallel to his. "Saya, please, say something…anything…"

"H…Haji…" She sobbed; streaming tears a stark contrast to the wide smile visible on her face. "You're alive…Alive!" Her words were almost indistinguishable after that…

"S…so beautiful…happiness…"

"S-sweet…so sweet… Joy…"

"Salv…vation…my savior…"

She went on like that for almost an hour. Every sentence interrupted by a sob or a sniffle. All Haji could do was prop her up and listen, smiling and being the happiest he could ever remember being.

--

"Saya, this is, well, a bit much isn't it?"

"Kai…" Saya warned.

"Saya, come on!" He persisted, the few wrinkles in his brow creased and deepened. "Julia's been over three times in the past week!"

"Kai, I realize that…" Saya tried to explain as she sat at her normal place at the Omoro counter/bar. She sipped her coffee slowly as she wearily watched Kai pace through the tables that had already been put up.

"Saya, he's getting ridiculous! He's acting like you'd break if you so much as cut yourself!" He said wildly, tan hands running through his slightly thinning ginger hair. "As if he'd let you near a knife…" he added under his breath.

"He's just concerned!" She defended, though it sounded unconvincing even to her ears.

"He's an overprotective, old-fashioned nut-job," Kai concluded. He flopped down onto the nearest chair and stretched his arms behind his head. He waited for her response, but when it became obvious she didn't have one, he stood up and walked over to his younger sister with a small smile.

"Just keep him in check," He laughed, swinging his arm over her and kissing the top of her head. He ruffled her hair playfully and added, "I'm the only one who gets to boss you around!"

Saya chucked a handful of straws at him as he hurried out of the room grinning happily. She picked them up as soon as she was sure he'd left, and began to rinse her cup out in the sink. As the warm water flowed freely over her fingers and into the basin, she mulled over the events since her awakening three months ago.

Haji had been…difficult since her hibernation ended in late May. He'd always been protective and cautious, so it was understandable that after a brief reunion with Kai and the rest of her old and new family, the first thing he did was take her for a complete check-up with Dr. Julia Silverstein, who remarkably, even after 30 years, could easily be described as being in her prime. Even though her son David (of _course_, Saya remembered thinking, _of course_ they would side with tradition) had done the basic examination, Julia had come in to supervise and take over when the physical became too gender specific. She was obviously older, but no one would believe she was over 50, and no sane person would ever guess she was really 63…

Haji had sat next to her on the hospitable bed once the exam was finished and Julia explained the results to them.

"You're as healthy was ever, Saya," She began confidently, visibly pleased and even a little shocked. "It's almost as though you never went to sleep. I've never seen results this good soon after your re-awakening."

David (David _junior_, Saya corrected mentally) stood smiling next to his mother. He was actually David and Julia's second child, their first being Michelle Aneese Rogers, who was currently residing on the coast on Southern California with her husband, Rick Rogers. David jr. had obviously taken more interest in continuing the Red Shield than his sister, and seemed very pleased to meet Saya in person.

"From what I can tell," Julia continued, taking a chart offered to her by her son, "everything will go on as usual. The absence of your sister seems to have not affected your body at all."

"But Ms. Julia…" Saya began nervously, she looked at Haji, who nodded in encouragement. "My hibernation was very different this time! The entire time I felt like I was awake, but my body wouldn't move. If Haji hadn't forced me awake, I…I'm not sure if I would have woken up at all!" She looked at the two physicians for an explanation.

Julia took the stack of charts David jr. currently held in his arms. "Well, Saya…" She said, searching through the charts for an answer. "It's always possible that you were too excited when your hibernation last started. Perhaps Diva's death had shocked your body more than we had anticipated."

"But if that were the case," Haji cut in, speaking for the first time, "then Saya wouldn't seem healthy now. If Diva's death had affected Saya enough to alter her sleep, then it would have had long lasting effects that lingered once she'd awoken. Don't you agree, Dr. Silverstein?" He looked as confused as Saya herself knew she looked.

Julia seemed as shocked as Saya was at Haji's outburst. She couldn't respond, however, before her son interjected eagerly.

"I actually think you have a point," David jr. began enthusiastically, though he looked a bit nervous addressing Haji directly. " I mean, we know that Ms. Otonashi says her hibernation period was very active this time, but Mr. Haji, you say that her heart rate only began speeding up over the past twelve months, don't you?"

"Yes," Haji answered. He seemed very interested in what the young doctor had to say. "Her heartbeat had been as normal as it was during every other sleeping cycle until the past year."

"Exactly!" He was noticeably encouraged by Haji's response. "So, we can conclude that Ms. Otonashi's hibernation was necessary and functional, just like it had been before. It seems to me that thirty years is the approximate time span for a cycle if both queens are alive," He turned to his mother, who stared in awe at him before nodding encouragingly. He looked relieved and continued. "Now that one queen is no longer present, there is one less factor in the equation. We always assumed that the hibernation cycles occurred to rest and revitalize the body. I believe that now that her sister is no longer present, Ms. Otonashi's body needed less time to rest, as she will no longer need the strength to defend herself from her blood." He looked around nervously.

Haji was the only one who spoke, "Dr. Silverstein, I believe you may have it." The entire room looked at him.

He continued, though looked only at Saya, holding her gaze intently. "Do you know what this means?" She shook her head, confused. "Your sleeping cycle had been reduced, Saya," He pushed, "You will no longer be confined to sleep for so long."

Julia interjected. "But she still slept for thirty years," She said, trying to put the pieces together. "She didn't wake up on her own at all. Even though her heart rate increased, she remained unconscious."

They all looked at David jr., who provided an answer with a smile, "I believe _that_ was a side-effect of her sister's death. Her mind was too confused and overwhelmed to register that her hibernation period was over completely." He registered the people around him and looked very eager. "Not only that, I believe that this hibernation was the last of it's kind." Everyone, save David jr., gave a visible jerk. "Throughout the various tests I've studied, I have come to believe that the average hibernation cycle takes thirty years only because of the active fighting that goes on between them. The other queen slept the same amount of time as you did, Ms. Otonashi, no matter how many chevaliers she created or how much sustenance she consumed. Now that the other queen is no longer present, I believe that your hibernations will become much, much shorter. In fact, I consider your last hibernation the last recuperation you will need, and that over time, Ms. Otonashi, your hibernations may cease to be necessary." He finished almost out of breath, but seemed very pleased at the shocked expression on his mother's face, and at the utter bewilderment on Haji and Saya's pale, beautiful visages.

And it was Haji, not Saya, who said quietly, "Th…Thank you…"

Saya stood at the sink as she dried her cup with a dish towel, and then walked slowly to the many shelves adorning the Omoro wall, placing her cup on one of them before sitting down at the table Kai had sat down at before he left. She waited in silence for Haji to return with Julia and David, not to mention David jr., whom Haji felt a personal debt to and had become quite fond of.

It was the first time in the past few months had Haji had left her alone for this long. He would sit patiently next to her while she and the family ate, occasionally shifting a stray piece of hair out of her face or caress her arm or cheek. Sonomi and Oako, Diva's daughters, who's perfect bodies mimicked Diva's while their faces paid slight homage to Riku's gentle features, would giggle quietly at Haji's old-fashioned ways, and his attentiveness to her. The way he'd open the door for her or pull out her chair before she could do it herself, or the way he'd look disapprovingly at the spaghetti-straps holding up her favorite dress before he'd drape his jacket over her shoulders protectively.

He would kiss her forehead, her cheeks, her hands, and occasionally her lips, ever so gently as she drifted off to sleep, and he was there when she woke up, always looking slightly eager and worried, as if this he were afraid he wouldn't see her awake for another thirty years.

Julia had been very pleasant through the whole thing. No matter how many house calls, or surprise visits, or 'urgent' business he called upon her services for, she, her more than willing son, and sometimes her husband (who, Saya noticed happily, had not passed his disposition and temperament down to his son) would greet them easily, reassuring Haji that yes, it is perfectly normal for Saya to still be tired after a blood transfusion, and no, it is not a bad sign when Saya eats less than is customary.

His fret for today was that her sleeping pattern was worrisome, and that less than eight hours every night cannot possibly be normal for a chiropteran queen…

When Julia and David jr. arrived fifteen minutes later from her office downtown, she brought Saya a fresh supply of blood packs ('Haji'll have my neck if I don't make sure you have enough,' David jr. had joked with a smile), left Saya with a message for Haji that assured him that without the constant stress that she has been under during her previous active periods, anywhere from six to ten hours is standard. As she left, she left another, in which she told him that if he was to call her again, to make sure to be present for the result.

Although Julia's answer hadn't surprised her, she was taken aback by the fact that Haji hadn't returned with her. He'd left earlier in the morning, right as she was eating breakfast, and told her not to worry; he was going to make sure Julia checked out her sleeping patterns right away. It was just after 2 in the afternoon, and despite the slight nervousness his protective glare of possessive demeanor left on the other members of her family, she found herself feeling almost empty without him by her side.

She didn't feel that way for much longer however, as fifteen minutes later, he came though the entrance of the Omoro looking nervous. She was finishing up the cleaning after the lunch rush she'd put off before Julia's visit, and Haji came over to her immediately.

"Saya…" He started, taking the broom out of her hands. "What did Dr. Silverstein say? She said that you shouldn't over-exert yourself, didn't she? She told you that just last week…" He put the broom away in the closet behind the counter and led her over to the nearest table. "Has she come by already today?" Their fingertips were touching slightly on the tabletop.

"Yes," She responded with a sigh. She rolled her eyes, and noticed that even in the Okinawan summer heat, he still wore black pants, a white dress shirt, and a black, albeit lightweight looking, jacket. He hadn't tucked in his shirt, which he told her once about a month earlier, was as informal as he would ever get. "She said I was_ fine_, Haji, and not to worry." She decided not to deliver her second message; she knew that Haji wouldn't leave her alone for that long again. She found the thought a little funny, but very reassuring.

There was a slight pause before he spoke.

"You…you must think that I am being ridiculous." He said with a small smile. He seemed to be laughing inwardly at a personal joke. As she was about to disagree and defend him, he shushed her by placing two elegant fingers across her parted lips. "No, no, you have reason to think that." She could tell that he was trying to find the right words, so she continued to say nothing, even as his fingers left her lips and lifted to her cheek where they settled softly while his thumb gently stroked the soft skin under her eye.

"Saya…" His cobalt eyes pierced her soul as his velvety voice beckoned her attention. "The past three months, I have been waiting. I have been waiting for something to happen to you…" Saya waited for him to continue. His voice sounded so pained. "My common sense won't allow me to believe, that everything will eventually return to normal. To the way it was before the fighting, and the discoveries, and the pain."

His gaze bore into her and his pained expression turned to an almost hopeful one. "I wouldn't let myself believe what the young Dr. Silverstein has been saying. I found every reason to believe that something was going wrong, so that I would get used to the idea of losing you again. But I realize now that after everything, the world has finally begun to spin in the right direction. Everything is returning to the way it was supposed to be." She wanted to embrace him, to tell him that she was happy, too, that she would no longer be torn away from him, but his magnificent stare made her unable to move.

"Everything is returning to the way it was meant to be…" He whispered, almost to himself, before pulling a small square box out of his jacket pocket. He removed his hand from her cheek and pulled one of hers from the table. Her left hand was shaking as he held it gently between his own. He wasn't sure if she was still breathing when he stood from the chair and got down on one knee, simultaneously pulling her to standing where she stared gown at him as he gazed longingly into her eyes.

"You have granted me an immortal life," His voice was like a symphony accompanying the beating of her heart. "Saya, my cherished, my angel, my love, tell me you will spend eternity with me." He slid a ring that she couldn't see through all the tears on to finger, and whispered into her how ornamented hand, "Please tell me you will stay with me, and marry me."

She pulled his face to look up at her.

"Yes," She answered. Tears flowed freely down her rosy cheeks. "Yes, always, yes."

_Yes…_

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: Yay! End of chapter 3! In the next chapter, an old ally makes his first real re-appearance! Please review and stay tuned!


	4. Always with Me

A/N: Wow, everyone! October has started already! The leaves are changing color everywhere (except here...it's always sunny and green here)! I got the Blood plus soundtrack in the mail a few days ago, and it really helped this chapter come along. I really hope you enjoy it! :D

--

Chapter 4: Always with me

_I'll call out your name the way I know,_

_But it's not the last good-bye,_

_'cause I know the wind will blow_

_My voice to you._

_I will raise my eyes up to the sky,_

_'cause I know you are there for me._

_I'll let the wind take my voice_

_Up there to you._

_And I will sing your name my love to you._

_And you will know I'm always here for you._

_Wherever you are,_

_Wherever you are._

_And I'll go on for you_

_You're always with me._

_(Exilia)_

--

"Umm… This one is…nice."

Two pairs of eyes glared suspiciously.

"No, really! It's just, umm…don't you think it's a bit, well…"

"Absolutely gorgeous?" Sonomi chimed in. The red queen seemed happy with her choice for a gown.

"Delightfully wonderful?" Aoko added cheerfully. The beautiful blue-eyed princess danced gracefully over to her sister.

"I think..." Saya began, trying to get a good look of the back of her dress from the several mirrors surrounding her in their private dressing room. "I think the word I was looking for was…poofy."

Her nieces stared at her with deadpan expressions and rolled their eyes simultaneously. They rose from their chairs concurrently, and began circling around her like birds of prey, pulling and adjusting the gown to better fit her.

"Oh, come on!" Saya defended herself when they refused to acknowledge her concerns. "I look ridiculous! I thought they stopped making dresses that look like this in the 19th century…"

"If only you could be so lucky," Sonomi sighed, pulling an uninterested Saya to the nearest mirror, and began tightening the corset that fitted the bodice of her aunt's gown. When Aoko had successfully readjusted Saya's extravagant veil, which Saya herself hadn't bothered to try putting on correctly, as she knew it wouldn't satisfy them anyway, The twins stepped back, and examined her.

"I like it." Aoko exclaimed happily, running a hand through her ebony hair. It draped down to the middle of her back, where it waved slightly. Her striking blue eyes looked to her other half for confirmation.

"Oh, yes, I think it's lovely." Sonomi concluded happily. They looked at Saya gleefully. The twins sighed suddenly, looking defeated. Her nieces were obviously not impressed with her sad attempt to smile. "We'll go find another one…" With slumped shoulders, they began shuffling out of the Boutique's dressing room.

"Haji'll have a fit if she's not happy…" Sonomi muttered as she collected some of the other dresses Saya had refused on her way out.

"I know, I know…" Aoko pouted, linking up arms with her sister, who managed to carry five rejects with only one arm. "Plus, it was a little revealing. God _knows_ he can barely stand her shoulders bare…" They took one last fleeting glance towards her, and then left.

"I'm sorry!" She called after them. She said it in a small voice, a little louder than a whisper; she knew they'd hear it. A moment later she hear a small chuckle from outside the curtain that separated the abnormally large dressing room from the rest of the store.

Haji…

He had come along, of course—she wouldn't have it any other way. It had been his idea, in fact, to take her to a very exclusive-looking (and suspiciously hard-to-find) boutique on the southern coast of Okinawa Island. When asked how on Earth he found such an obscure Shoppe so suddenly, he innocently responded that one night he had gotten lost while looking for the Omoro. She let it go, despite the fact that, at any given point, at any given time, Haji knew exactly where he was, and that the Omoro was on the Central-eastern coast of Okinawa city…

Saya's ears picked up the sound of her nieces bickering among themselves and with her fiancée about the cut of the dress, or the color, or the length of the train, and smiled slightly. It had actually been Haji's idea that it be Sonomi and Aoko to accompany her. She had thought it had been out of consideration for the other female members of their Red Shield family, as Julia Silverstein had her own practice to attend to, and Mao wouldn't be returning to Okinawa for another week. Rather than wait for Mao, Haji suggested that Diva's daughters escort her. She didn't realize until the twins began handing her armful after armful of Ivory frills and laces that it was their _interesting_ fashion sense that had caught his attention.

_The daughters of my sister, Diva…_She thought as she spun around slowly in front of the semi-circle of mirrors adorning one side of the Boutique's dressing room. She hardly paid attention to the fancy and elaborate gown that she saw in the mirrors. Being so close to the twins still shocked her. It never ceased to amaze her how comfortable she would become when she was near them, only to remember exactly who they were, and who their mother was, and feel guilty about exactly what she had been planning to do thirty years ago.

Sonomi and Aoko…Diva's daughters…the uncrowned princesses of a forgotten kingdom, had vowed to live their lives the way Saya had. The antagonistic tendencies seemed to not affect them at all. They lived as beautiful statuesque humans, sustaining themselves discreetly, and always remaining within a few feet of each other at any given time.

Saya remembered the first time she had seen them. Haji had revived her, and after their loving reunion with each other, she requested to see Kai, and David, and Julia, and everyone else. She had expected the worse; that Haji would regretfully inform her that that wasn't possible, that she had slept for too long, and that they had long since perished naturally, and that they were alone. Or worse. She inwardly cringed, waiting for her Beloved to tell her that Diva's daughters had followed the path that their mother and aunt had paved for them, and that they fought each other, and either killed one another, or had finished where Amshel's plan left off...

But he smiled (so beautiful!), and directed her towards a neat stack of clothes prepared for her. He turned around while she changed into them, and explained that every year, Kai would leave a different stack, just to make sure that if she woke up during one of the few days he didn't visit, that she would know that he, and everyone else, hadn't forgotten about her, and were waiting. As she folded up her old school uniform, the same one she fell asleep in (and remarked to herself how surprisingly preserved it was), she noticed the clothes were somewhat...modest; Obviously stylish, but too formal for something Kai would have picked out. He noticed her regarding the pick dress that fluttered to her knees, and clarified that when he reappeared approximately fifteen years ago, he took up the responsibility. She paid no more attention to her attire as he reached for her hand, and asked her if she wished to meet the rest of her family.

After walking hand-in-hand, slowly and peacefully, into town, they finally arrived at the Omoro. Haji had called Kai as soon as she had finished changing, and Saya tried very hard to push all her pre-conceived images about what this reunion would be like out of her head. But no matter how many times Haji had reassured her that the Miyagusuku family was very well (and were most importantly, still alive) as they strolled though town, the image of Kai's bloody body surrounded by two blissfully ignorant and hungry Divas had found it's way into her head. Or worse, as Haji led the way though the increasingly busy streets, she pictured Kai, broken and alone, informing them that Diva's daughters had been taken, to god-knows-where, and would never be seen again.

But as the love of her life opened the door for her, and put the tip of hands on the small of her back to lead her inside, she saw a very different picture waiting her.

She saw Kai, healthy and completely alive, with a tan that could rival any surfers, and a smile brighter than the sun, standing behind the bar and leaning over it. As the Omoro burst out into 'Welcome backs!' and 'good Mornings!' and the like, she found the familiar faces immediately. There was David and Julia, with a handsome and somewhat excited-looking young man between them at the nearest table. There was Joel Goldsmidt VI, still confined to a wheelchair and smiling at her from a nearby table. Lewis sat at the bar, but had stood up and began clapping when she entered. Lulu had been sitting next to him, but now stood on her stool and waved enthusiastically. She looked the same as she had thirty years ago, perhaps even a little better, as the deep-set lines that had stretched across her childish face seemed natural looking now, and her cheeks seemed rosy and naturally bright.

She almost take a step back as she spotted Kaori, her dear friend from school, who had aged normally (and, Saya noticed amid the shock, amazingly well), smiling ecstatically and waving from a the table behind David and Julia. She was surprised, but very grateful that her human friend knew the truth, and made mental note to thank Joel relentlessly when everything quieted down. Mao and Okamura were nowhere to be seen, but she remembered what Kai had told her before she went to sleep, and, knowing them, were probably uncovering another Watergate scandal somewhere across the globe.

She tried to be subtle as she looked around the room for the other two heads she knew were missing. Had Kai made them stay upstairs as to spare her the shock of seeing them? As soon as she thought of them, however, they seemed to appear, as she suddenly noticed the tops of two black-haired heads at the farthest table.

Kai reached her first. He had tears in his eyes, and she did, too. She barely noticed the small wrinkles that had found a home on his face, or that he had grown at least another two inches, or that this voice sounded deeper and huskier than it had 30 years ago.

He reintroduced her to everyone, and they made almost no small talk. Every person seemed anxious to see Saya meet the only women in the room she had never spoken to before.

They were…beautiful. They sat very close to one another, and held hands. At first, Saya thought she could have been looking straight into a mirror to the past, at Diva and herself before everything had happened. As Kai introduced them slowly, she began noticing the small differences. As the twins stood up and gave a small bow, she noted the way their eyes slanted just a little less than hers or diva's had, and that they were just a little shorter than she was, and that when they smiled, their lips were just a little plumper than hers and that if she had only seen their smiles and nothing else, she would have thought that Riku had risen from his unfortunate grave.

They obviously had their mother's impulsiveness, though, because as Saya stuttered trying to introduce herself, obviously too shaken to remember her own name, they each took one hand, and shook it willingly, explaining that they were very happy to meet her, and that they were excited to be friends, and to please stop crying.

She had spent every day with them, almost. They all lived in the comfortably small apartment seated on top of their late father's restaurant, and it was guaranteed that at some time during the day, she and Haji would catch a glimpse of them, happy in their own little world, walking along, holding hands. In her head, she would call after their beautiful forms, telling them to be careful, and to not get too close. To her, their closeness seemed no _unnatural_. But how could it not, after what she had been through with Diva?

As Saya spun around one more time in front of the mirrors, she commented to herself that Diva's _eccentric_ taste in dress was also something passed down, as well.

The dress itself wasn't that bad, she thought. It certainly brought back memories. The bodice was corset-tight, gathering just before it hit her hip, then cascading down to join her skirt in a bell shape. The skirt itself was draped in three tiers, with the bodice's fabric draping over the already iridescent white fabric with a simmering overlay. The sleeves were most likely the best part, in her opinion (and therefore the least favorite part for her nieces). The bodice's fabric extended from a lower neckline to small, almost unnoticeable sleeves laced with scalloped edges that swathed across the top of the entire dress.

It gave her a strange sort of deja vu. It was vintage-inspired obviously, but the way the neckline dipped low in the front, and the way her shoulders were partially exposed reminded her that 'inspired' was the key word over vintage.

She did like it, though; something that surprised even her. Something about the dress made her keep it on the few extra minutes while her nieces scavenged through row after row of couture designer gowns. She couldn't place where it fit inside her vast memory. The way the dress fell, and its overall shape couldn't quite match anything she'd ever even think of wearing growing up in the zoo. After a few moments of fruitlessly trying to identify it's place in her memory, she resolved to take it off.

_That's a shame, because you look so beautiful in it…_

Saya froze. She picked up her skirt and began backing up slowly towards the mirrors she was just standing in front of. She turned slowly to face them, half expecting him to be standing, with the outstretched hand she had many times refused.

She found nothing except her reflection--a pale, beautiful woman donning a gown remarkably similar to the one Solomon Goldsmith had laid out for Saya Otonashi the day he confessed that her had devoted the rest of his life to her.

_Where…are my clothes?_

_They were torn and dirty, so I took the liberty of disposing of them for you. I thought you would look much better in a _dress_, than with a _sword_…_

How could she have not seen it before? The way the neckline's scalloped edges draped around her shoulders, the three layered rows that covered her legs. If she was completely certain that one of the twins had picked the dress out before, Saya was now completely positive. Haji would have noticed the similarities immediately, and would never have allowed them to pass it on to her.

She stood in front of her army of mirrors, unable to move. She could practically see that entire night playing out in the pleats of her dress. His penthouse apartment, so posh and elegant and human, his smile, so happy and sad and hopeful. She saw his hand, extended toward her, begging for her love and her final acceptance of his unwavering heart. She could feel his warmth, as she remembered him holding her, and asking her to be his bride, and to let him fulfill the wishes that only he could grant.

Half of her heart embraced the memory. Her spirit melted when she remembered it. A part of her found comfort in his affections, and enjoyed that moment of the past for what it was—the past. It enjoyed the warmth it brought her, and accepted it into her heart.

But the other half, the part of her heart that remembered the present and logic and humanity boiled inside of her. Why was his presence necessary at all? It hadn't accomplished anything, had it? The brief but steady reemergence of his memory was an unwelcome intrusion into her happily-ever-after.

If only she could figure out why it was…why was that any memory involving him sent her stomach into a fit of knots? Wave upon wave of memories had flooded into head over the past weeks. A thousand volumes of memoirs had left her head swimming, but every time his face appeared, it was no longer just a simple recollection; she would live it again.

A part of her she did not understand seemed to yearn for him. Some small, insignificant piece of her that she could not shake off clung to his memory more than anyone else's.

She shook her head close to violently, her veil rustling and swinging passionately down her back.

A cool knock against the wall next to the curtain of the dressing room suite almost made her jump. Only one hand could knock so loudly and gently at the same time.

"Saya?" He beckoned. "I think I may have something new you would like."

"Really?" She walked towards the heavy curtain that divided her from Haji. "The twins found another dress in this store? I thought this place must be out by now." He sighed a laugh, and she laughed slightly while her dress swung against her as she walked.

"Are you still wearing the last dress they brought you?" He must have heard the skirts against the carpeted floor.

"Yeah…I had a little trouble with a zipper" She lied.

"Should I get one of them to help you?"

"N-no, I'm okay. I just had to stretch a little to get it." She reached around just to make sure that she really didn't need their help.

"Are you sure?" He didn't seem convinced.

"Yes, I'm fine!" She tried to sound confident and not impatient. She suddenly couldn't get her current dress off fast enough. She positioned her arm out through the curtain and waited anxiously for him to drape the gown over it.

"Just give me next one. Please?" She waited half a second. "Is this one Sonomi's or Aoko's?"

"Actually," He started, placing the dress carefully over her waiting arm. "Neither. I found this one."

Saya pulled the dress in instantly. She hung it up one of the hooks adorning the walls of her colossal changing area. It seemed innocent enough. It was covered with laces and frills, but was no more intimidating than some of the extravagant things her nieces had found. She heard him whisper from behind the curtain, "I apologize if my taste is…off..."

She practically ripped the now surprisingly offensive gown off of her shoulders and let it fall to the ground. The memories it held seemed to burn her skin wherever it touched.

"What do you think?" Her fiancée called from outside.

"It looks nice. I'm putting it on now." She answered, struggling to detach the opera-length gloves from the dress on the hanger.

"Hurry up!" Sonomi and Aoko piped in. They seemed to have abandoned their search in favor of seeing Haji's personal choice. "Don't make us come in there!"

Not wanting to test their patience, she answered, "I'm almost done!" It was almost true…a little.

She laid the gloves on a footstool next her and began to zip herself into the dress. She didn't bother to look at the mirror for help; she would be able to fix it after she was done.

It was surprisingly easy to get into, as she managed to adjust the corseted back to her approximate measurements while it was still decorating the hanger, and managed to pull up the zipper on the side with a fair amount of accuracy. She grabbed the gloves and stepped a few paced to the left to face her hall of mirrors.

Sonomi and Aoko would adore him eternally for this.

It was without a doubt the most beautiful thing she had ever worn, certainly. It was strapless (a genuine surprise), with a large ribbon wrapped into an empire waist and gathered in the middle of her under-bust, fixed with an antique-looking bow adorned with a creamy pendant surrounded with ruffled lace. The small bow was encircled with tiny crystals that continued down her bodice until reaching just below her bellybutton, where they dispersed among the pleats and folds that draped from the center to the back of the ivory robe, gathering into bustle set on the small of her back. At least nine rows of ruffled pleats swung out from array just below her corseted front. Lastly, from where Saya assumed her ankles were, hung a spread of micro-pleated wonderlandish textile that reached a little past the floor in front of her, and extended at least a 3 feet behind her, joining crystal-encrusted fabric flowing off the bustle to form an ornate train behind her.

She slipped on the gloves as carefully as she could, and found to her amazement that the tops of which were embellished with the same tiny ribbon and ruffled pendant that could be found on her gown.

"Saya?" An angel's voice called. "I'm sorry, do you need their help?"

"Yes!" The twins cried joyfully to her. "Do you need our help?" Their hands were ready on the dividing curtain.

"No, I'm fine!" She replied hastily. "Just let me put the veil on and I'll come right out!"

The twins muttered between themselves. "She's going to need our help with that, anyway…" Sonomi pouted. "Oh yeah, definitely, "Aoko agreed. Saya rolled her eyes, and guess that Haji was most liked doing the same.

She pulled her shoulder-length tresses behind her ears, and let her bangs fall freely in front of her face. She was honestly surprised that Haji had agreed so effortlessly to her choice to cut it. He made no secret of his preference to long hair. However, after a week or two of walking though the Okinawan streets, Haji began to grow irritated at the gapes and stares the wide-eyes men devoured his beloved with. When Saya expressed an interest in cutting her then-waist long hair, Haji was more than willing to support it.

The veil was made of a crystalline fabric that paralleled the majority of her train. It was attached to a tiara-like headband that was embossed with the same creamy stones and laces that garlanded the rest of her ensemble.

The headband was more difficult than she had anticipated. It got caught in the longer tendrils of her hair, and inwardly cursed the most feminine part of her for wanting to keep a little long, and stopping her from hacking it off as she had done in the past.

"Okay, that's it!" A small, irritated hand ripped open the curtain.

"Don't!" Saya shrieked, much to the amusement of a saleswoman standing several feet away at cash register, listening to the group's unusually entertaining conversation. Saya made a motion to cover herself up before anyone could see her revealed form.

"Auntie Saya…" Aoko sighed, Sonomi leaning against her twins shoulder in the doorway. "You don't need to cover up; you're already dressed…"

Saya just closed her eyes and took a deep breath, waiting for them to start laughing at her modest and absentminded moment. No one did, however, as the twins found themselves preoccupied with gaping at the elaborate garment that currently enveloped their aunt.

They ran over immediately, gushing over the gown, and their newfound respect for the tall, dark, and handsome chevalier.

"Yeah, see? It has the ruffles on the gloves, too." Sonomi admired.

"Uh-huh, on the veil, too" Aoko beamed. "Oh, look, she messed it up…"

"Okay, let me help…"

As her nieces marveled and tugged and tightened and fussed over the dress, she just closed her eyes and let her head tilt down, giving them free reign to adjust any most of her they found unsatisfactory. After a few moments of pulling up her gloves and adjusting her train, Saya finally noticed the heartbeat and heat radiating from the other end of the room.

He stood in the doorway, mouth parted, as if he'd just stopped himself from speaking. Aoko and Sonomi looked up before she did, but by the time she had lifted her chin elegantly to gaze at him, they had already gone back to work.

The look on his face made her heart pound against her chest like a jackhammer. He stared at her longingly through his unbearably long eyelashes, looking as though he'd finally retrieved after millennia of searching. He looked so overjoyed.

He looked so overjoyed, that Saya blushed, and looked back down to the carpet, embarrassed. No matter how much the frills and intricate layers and extravagant laces annoyed the logical part of her, there was no way she could say no to the wedding dress her love picked out when she saw his face like that.

She chuckled to herself.

_Whoever said that the wedding day was for the bride was obviously misinformed._

--

"_You have to stop her…" His blood was everywhere. It covered the long grasses and burnt twigs in the ground. He was dying on a crimson blanket._

"_Dad, please, hang on…I'll go get help…" The air was so hot and sticky. It was flame against my skin._

"_You have to stop that thing, Jefferson!" The sword wound in his stomach bled faster every breath he took. "She's a monster…Stop her!"_

_His eyes bore into me. Those last words he said, as his powerful brown eyes blazed before fading away forever behind his closing lids. _

_I sobbed into his uniform…Stop her…I will stop her for you, Father…_

_I will stop her, Father…_

--

They had almost finished loading the sophisticated and highly structured gown into Aoko and Sonomi's flashy black sports car (a gift from Joel IV on their 21st birthday that they never quite looked old enough to reach), when a familiar engine alerted them to a new presence.

"Kai!" Sonomi shouted, bounding over to her father happily. He had just stepped out of his green and gray vintage bus (a collector's model—a gift to himself, from himself, to commemorate their father's when it finally died) when Aoko danced over to them, and he put his arms around them.

"Did you finish the preparations, Kai?" Aoko asked eagerly. "You didn't forget to book the church, did you?" She looked skeptical.

"Saya, Haji…" He called to the pair leaning against the truck of the twin's showy car. "You guys are all done, right?" He sounded distracted.

"Yes," Saya answered, sensing the anticipation and nervousness in his voice.

"What is it, Kai?" Haji questioned, his hand linked protectively over Saya's as they began walking towards where he parked in the middle of the small lot.

"You guys ride with me," He nodded towards to couple. Saya and Haji looked at each other quickly before she nodded. While part of her was glad Oako had convinced them let her drive the party there, she knew that no small matter could leave Kai looking so troubled and upset, as best he tried to hide it.

He whispered something quietly and quickly to the girls before kissing them both on the cheek while Haji helped Saya into the bus. They sat hand in hand in the back, and she turned to look out the window just in time to see the twins hurry into their car, Sonomi at the wheel this time.

As they pulled out, and their car was paralleled with Kai's, he said out the window to them:

"I don't think we're going to need that church."

--

"Sergeant McCoy," a clear male voice captured his attention from the photograph on his desk.

"Sergeant McCoy, we've detected some…_interesting_ movements." He carefully presented a plain manila folder to his superior.

"Do we have a clear course of action?" He skimmed over the data for the past few weeks.

"Almost, sir, we're waiting for our records specialist for confirmation."

"Good, Good…" He pondered for a moment before standing up and nodding at his eager subordinate. "You're excused, Soldier." The young man saluted proudly before hurrying out of the office.

He sat down again at his large wooden desk, and pushed for his secretary.

"Ms. Shurrek, I'm going to need a detailed list and assessment of all the troops stationed in Okinawa, Japan, by first thing tomorrow morning."

"Yes, sir," a cheery young secretary replied. "Anything else?"

"Yes, Ms. Shurrek. Call Abram Michaels. Tell him Jefferson McCoy needs him to return to the base of operations."

"Yes, sir."

He stood from his desk once again, and stood next to the large window adorning the northern wall of his office, staring intently and the picture of his father in the fame he fondly held in his right hand.

'I will stop her, and save the world, Father,' he prayed in his head.

_Whoever said you could bring about change without violence was obviously misinformed._

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: Wow, the endof Chapter 4! That was really long, huh? I hope you enjoyed the long chapter. The title and opening song are very important, and 'Always with me' by Exilia fit wonderfully, I thought. It's supposed to make it clear that each person within this story has someone that is always in their hearts and memories. Stay tunes and please review!! :D


	5. Wait for Me

A/N: Wow, It seems like forever since I updated! Sorry about that...But never fear--I worked really hard on this chapter! It took me a loonnnggg time, but that's a good thing, right? RIGHT. I hope you enjoy!

--

Chapter 5: Wait for me

_And darling, did you know that I_

_I pray about you,_

_Praying that you will hold on_

_Keep your loving eyes only for me._

_'Cause I am waiting for_

_Praying for you, darling,_

_Wait for me too_

_Wait for me as I wait for you_

_(Rebecca St. James)_

_--_

The car ride back to their small Okinawan sactuary was a quiet one. Although Saya was sure that Kai was using the expensive engine gracing hisvan to it's full potential, the trip from Haji's exclusive boutique still took over an hour.

Kai refused to respond with more than vague answers to Saya's list of questions. He was either unaware to the state ofdistress his impromptu arrival at the shoppe left her in, or the idea of revealing the nature of his visit in a car full of chiropterans left him terrified.

When the van finally pulled up to their late father's restaraunt, Kai didn't bother to pull into the back; he pulled the key out of the ignition so fast it could have been thepin to a live grenade. Haji helped her step out, and before she could open her mouth to confront her brother, his hand was already on the doorknob.

"Saya, I know you must have a lot of questions,"Kai began breathlessly. "Just wait."

--

They sat around at a cluster of tables, occupying the full eating area of the Omoro. Julia, David, and their handsome son had met them there, already having put the 'CLOSED' sign over the door and closing the shutters when they arrived. Lewis had come (with Lulu in tow) after the twins' speedy arrival, which came only minutes after Kai, Haji, and Saya had rushed over.

"So there you have it." Okamura concluded. He stared straight ahead, directly past David, who sat directly across from him. Saya could tell that he was trying to be professional about the news. She noticed the way that he tried to keep his voice steady through the disturbing update, and the way he shifted uncomfortably whenever he had to mention Saya's name throughout his account of the recent..._unsettling _reports.

He and Mao had returned from their already short stay in France as soon as they discovered the information. Okamura explained that the news seemed to practically fall into his hands haphazardly, that it had found its way into the steady stream of collective stories and scoops and breaks that his various connections fed him.

"I'm so sorry..." Mao shook her head, her hair swinging gracefully as she did so. "We know that the timing couldn't be worse, but we knew this couldn't wait." She looked at Okamura, who closed his eyes, and gave a small nod.

The reunion between Saya and her two obstinate friends couldn't have been more different that what she'd imagined. She had pictured waiting at the Omoro with Haji and the others while Kai went to pick up the reporter and his attractive companion, had imagined flowers waiting for them as they stepped through the door, bickering like always. But Mao didn't have that same exuberant smile when she met with Saya after thirty years of separation, and Okamura didn't pat her on the shoulder roughly, or grin happily and light another cigarette. When Saya rushed through the door of her late father's restaurant, they looked up sharply, and Okamura looked surprised and wary at the same time, and Mao smiled sadly at her. While her old friend seemed happy to see the chiropteran queen, something more serious and frightening was obviously occupying her attention.

Saya sat almost deflated in her chair, with Haji's arm, curled around her shoulders and fingers laced with hers, practically holding her up. Her head was cocked to the side, and her eyes looked more or less glazed over. She thought briefly that she must look completely out of it, when truly her gaze was sharply fixed on Okamura and Mao. It was as if for the first time in the months following her awakening, reality was before her.

Mao's face was still beautiful, of course; it would have been hard not to be. But it was a different beautiful than had been the fantasy of every boy in her high school. Her skin wrinkled the same way Kai's did, and her eyebrows drooped ever-so-slightly towards her eyes. Her hair was shorter than it had been thirty years ago, and where curls once bobbed at the end, thin, gentle waves now hung. As she ran her hand through it, clearly stressed, Saya noticed the skin on Mao's elegant fingers had drawn taught. Okamura had aged more obviously, though no more aggressively. His hair was almost completely gray, but still surprisingly full on his head. Years of stress, sun, and smoking had matured his face into a permanent mask of wrinkles. But she saw the familiar sparkle in his eye that she remembered from long ago, and could see both the past and the present in his face.

"You did the right thing," Haji said, "by telling us." He tightened his grip on Saya's hand. That tug seemed to snap her out of it.

"I don't really see the problem." Lewis spoke for the first time since everyone had arrived.

Everyone turned to him, questioning his sanity.

"So the Corpse Corps is back." He seemed very blasé about the situation. "We can take them out easy. All we have to do is figure out who's commanding them."

"It's _not_ that simple, Lewis." Everyone turned to David when they heard the severity in his voice. Lewis had sounded so optimistic about it that for a moment Saya thought that perhaps there would finally be an easy solution. David continued:

"The Corpse Corps were completely destroyed thirty years ago after Diva's death. Any that were not destroyed when the US government tried to cover up the Delta 67 scandal expired from being cut off from their blood source.

"As far as we knew, the only people that knew about the existence of chiropterans and the Corpse Corps are in this room," David concluded with a sigh.

Okamura glanced around the huddled group and looked resolute. "That means the only way to make sense of their reemergence is to assume that someone found the Delta 67 research." His gaze focused on Saya, Haji, and the twins for a moment before staring at the wall.

"I'd guess that they'd have found all of the... _other_ research, as well..." Julia had noticed Okamura's fleeting look at the chiropterans, and finished his train on thought for him.

"But you destroyed all of that research yourself, Julia!" Saya spoke for the first time. She was surprised how soft her voice was despite the power behind it.

"Yes, I did," Julia said, before looking at Saya darkly. "But I very much doubt that Collins did the same." She was quiet for a moment, and leaned back in her chair looking defeated.

"I'm sure he had enough of Diva's blood to extract and duplicate enough Delta 67 to start up the Corpse Corps. He was her personal physician for over a year." Julia sighed.

"But Collins was in his sixties when I knew him. That was thirty years ago." Saya was trying desperately to put the pieces together. "He would be over 90..."

"Collins died about twenty years ago, actually," David cut in. Amidst the tragedy unfolding around them, Saya noticed he looked almost pleased to say it. "Suicide."

"_Officially_ a suicide," Lewis corrected after seeing the surprised look on Saya's face. "He somehow ducked out of the official investigation of the Delta scandal. By the time the U.S. tracked him down with a new warrant, years later, he'd been dead for weeks."

"So what did this Collins end up doing with the research?" Sonomi chimed in impatiently.

Aoko's attitude was no different. "From what you say, there's no way this guy would just give it up." She slumped down slightly with her sister.

"He didn't give it up," Okamura informed. "That is, he didn't give it up to the _United_ _States_." Everyone leaned a little bit closer to listen.

"Collins wasn't stupid," he began, and David and Julia rolled their eyes. Okamura corrected himself. "Well, he wasn't stupid when it came to this research. Collins knew that even though the government would never uncover the full chiropteran research, they'd be able to pin him down for something eventually. Thirty years ago, the government tried to explain the brief burst of chiropteran attacks during and after Diva's song as a wave of terrorist attacks orchestrated by the Cinq-Fleches pharmaceutical company. They claimed that the company had been corrupted from the inside, and had been secretly shipping in defective products and enemy spies."

"Wait, wait, wait..." Sonomi rubbed her temple. "There is no way that people would believe that. There were chiropterans running amuck! Are you telling me people just assumed blood-sucking monsters were really radical insurgents in disguise?"

The room was very quiet, and Sonomi began regretting her outburst. Mao was the one who answered.

"Anyone close enough to get a good look, didn't live long enough to tell about it."

"And anyone who did," Okamura finished, "were eager to believe that those horse-headed apes running around were some kind of terrorist-trained animal."

Once again, silence filled the room, and everyone was given a bit of time to process the information and come up with their own conclusions. Saya was grateful for the brief quiet, and tried to imagine what she would believe if she hadn't been caught up to the truth. What would she have believed if she were a member of the horrified public? If she had continued living like she did during that precious year with George, Kai, and Riku at the Omoro, what would she have believed then? When she went to school to retrieve her shoes, and her teacher had been slaughtered by a blood-thirsty monster before her eyes, she'd come to school a few days later ready to believe anything.

As much as she wanted to blame the public for being gullible and stupid for believing such a ridiculous story, she was happy for them. People were better off not knowing. Who would benefit from knowing that their father or mother, or brother or sister, were killed by a chiropteran, and not some hellish dog from another country? She now remembered why she had once found solace in the fact that normal people would never know of her existence.

"Where?" Saya asked softly. She was sad to end the quiet, but found it necessary.

"Excuse me?" Okamura asked, obviously pulling himself out of his own train of thought. "Where what?"

"You said that Collins didn't give his research or Delta samples back to the US." She took a deep breath. "Who did he give them to?"

Everyone turned towards Okamura, who looked hesitant to answer.

"We can never be completely sure where. Any country's military would pay millions for that kind of weapon." He gave Saya an almost apologetic glance, which she didn't acknowledge. She didn't need people watching their words _now_, especially when it was Saya who originally made the terms_chiropteran_ and _weapon_ interchangeable.

"Although we can never be positive where he sold them, or, well, began selling them," Okamura was slowly reverting back into the full no-nonsense reporter he always was, and his words seemed filled with information rather than dread, "we do know that in the last thirty years, the only Corpse Corps besides the few that remained after Diva's concert, were found in Egypt."

"So it _was_ in the Middle East..." David murmured. Okamura had obviously confirmed what he had suspected.

"Collins must have sold it to them because of the conflict that was going on." Julia seemed to be thinking aloud, rather than to the audience surrounding her.

"_Was_ going on? It still_ is_ going on," Okamura corrected, and turned to Saya to elaborate while the rest of their counsel listened with distracted ears."Well, everyone here, even you, Saya, knows about the tension between the Middle East and America a little over thirty years ago."

She remembered the few things that they covered in her high school history class about it. As she concentrated, she recalled tiny bits of conversation that flitted through her memory; one between off-duty soldiers hanging around the American base, or between Forest and George, as she served them coffee. She even recalled the headlines she read in the international paper, mentioning the rising terror threat in America, or the constant civil uprisings around the Middle East.

"Well, you'd think that that would have died down when the US government realized the deep shit they were in from the Delta 67 scandal," Okamura said. Saya nodded at his statement, and he continued.

"However, the US used it as an excuse to continue its military campaign in Iraq. It was basically another Red Scare."

"The public completely fell for the idea," Mao said, shaking her head. She was obviously still in awe at the gullibility of the American public. "I don't know if you remember the September 11th attacks on America." It was Haji who nodded, as Saya remembered reading about it only briefly years after it happened. "Well, imagine the public's enthusiastic response to the military action from that, and multiply it about a dozen times."

"We thought of every way we could correct them with out revealing anything about the existence of chiropterans," Julia said, apparently done mulling the news over. "But we just... couldn't."

"We were lucky for a while, actually," Okamura said. He was fully involved in his report now. "The 'war' between the US and Iraq officially ended years ago, and as far as the public knows, everything's good—the US is terror free, and the Middle East is very far away."

Saya noted the sarcastic tone in his voice. "Then what's really going on?"

Okamura seemed happy at her ability to catch on.

"American forces have been stationed in Iraq, Saudi Arabia, and Afghanistan for the past ten years. They've been using a false unit name that I couldn't specify, but by the looks of it, the war is more real now than it ever was. It's not about that public-pleasing shit anymore; these people are playing for keeps."

"But what are they fighting for?" Lulu's innocent, high-pitched voice seemed so out of place in the serious discussion.

"Weapons," Okamura said. His voice was stone.

One word was all it took to make everything click for Saya. It seemed so obvious now. The world had kept advancing while she lay cold and asleep. Of course that is what people would fight for. It would all eventually come down to that. All wars had been for the same reason, if you looked close enough. People fought religious wars because they believed they were right, and wanted the power to instill that belief. They fought civil wars because they wanted to have control of their country. Even politically-engineered wars were fought for control, although this time for control of the public.

And control could be never be gained without force.

And force could never be powerful enough without the right weapons.

And Saya knew for sure what the most powerful 'weapons' were on Earth.

And now, someone else did, too.

"Mao, Okamura," David Jr. spoke for the first time. Saya noticed that it was his father, rather than his mother, he resembled when he was serious. "I see what an extreme threat a country knowing and possessing the chiropteran research poses to the world, and I know what the Corpse Corps are capable of. And you said the public doesn't even know about the war, so they don't know about chiropterans, either. But I am curious about one thing..." Mao and Okamura nodded for him to continue, while everyone else snapped back into the conversation at the sound of a new voice.

"So Dr. Collins sold the information and research to Egypt, as they have been spotted around no other area. And perhaps it was the Egyptian military had him killed, since they must have known that he would either sell the research again to someone else, or expose them. However, since no public has seen the Corpse Corps and lived to tell about it, then we also assume that they haven't been released for military use yet, which is good. So my question is related to what Lewis said earlier: he said that once we find out who's running the operation, we can take them down easily, and quite frankly I agree. The project can't be too large, or something would have been leaked way before this. Why don't we just go and stop them? We have the means necessary, and we now know who's behind it."

Lewis seemed encouraged by David's son, and gave a strong nod of approval. Lulu and the twins also seemed a little more positive at the prospect of such an easy solution. The twins looked expectantly at one another, and smiled very slightly.

However, as the younger David looked around the room for more approval, he realized that he seemed to be missing something. Where he expected buoyant optimism at his conclusion, he found gazes directed at the floor, and awkward disappointment.

"It's true; we do know who has control of the Corpse Corps..." Okamura said kindly and slowly. Saya could tell he was hoping everyone would have come to the same different conclusion and that he would not have to say it out loud.

"The problem is," he continued, and the words seemed to leave a bad taste in his mouth, "that we wouldn't be the only ones who know that now..."

The room gave a small, collective jolt as the words fell from his mouth. A tense sigh could be heard as the majority of the adults had their worst suspicions confirmed.

"My sources tell me that the US government received a report as far back as a year ago."

All eyes turned to Saya, who's gaze was locked with Okamura's. His piercing eyes were all she could see and feel for that moment, and she tried not to let her fear and frustration show as he explained her destiny to her.

"The US knows that the Corpse Corps are back."

_Please, no... oh please, stop..._

"There were still a significant number of reports locked up the last time we checked. We can only assume that they know of your existence now, as well."

_No, no, no! Don't say it, please..._

"Considering the Red Shield was never an official military organization, there's no record of your actions with them. They went searching for your file once they realized your possible connection to the Corpse Corps reports, though I doubt they have more that your Vietnam file and various chiropteran attacks to go off of."

_Stop it! Stop it! Please, no more..._

"However, they've been able to trace you back to Okinawa at the start of 2005. They went to confirm that the teacher at your school had been killed by a chiropteran, and they recognized you from security cameras they had set up around the school 30 years ago."

_No! No! No!_

"They've been able to trace various Red Shield members, and have somehow verified your location back here in Okinawa. There's no way to tell how long they've known, but we can assume it hasn't been for over a month or so. But that means that they know you're alive, and awake."

_Please... Please..._

"They view your existence as a self-aware and conscious chiropteran a more serious threat than the Corpse Corps."

_Anything else... Please... Not this..._

"Saya, we rushed back here because I think they're coming for you."

Haji's grip on her hand was now strong enough to shatter any human's bones. She couldn't feel the increasing intensity. Saya just closed her eyes, and tried to listen to Okamura's report and the Red Shield's plan without screaming.

--

"Are you scared?" his velvety voice whispered in her ear.

"No." She didn't have the energy to try and mask whatever emotion hung in her voice. She nestled closer into his chest.

Haji and Saya were lying on top of the bed that sat against the painted wall of her tiny room. The meeting had ended hours ago, after the sun had set, and her comrades came up with a temporary solution to the problem at hand.

"You're shaking, my love." He wrapped his arms tighter around her, in case she was cold, or in case she was just trying to be brave. Saya welcomed the warmth gratefully, though she didn't need it.

"I'm just a little jittery."

He seemed to accept that answer. After all, considering the day's events, she had reason to be.

Saya tried to push the past twenty-four hours out of her head. The events occurring within them seemed such a contrast to one another. She'd fulfilled many normal women's dreams and found the beautiful gown to wear to her beautiful wedding. She'd seen the look on her beautiful fiancé's face and she'd believed, for the first time, that she had finally found her place in this crazy, beautiful world. But in that same day, she'd realized that that was never really an option in the first place. No matter how happy and optimistic and real and human her life seemed, it would never be _normal._

And it made her think very hard about Haji. She had known, even in the decades that they hunted Diva, that part of him longed for everything to stay the same, and that he secretly wished to be human still. Saya wondered, too, exactly how he had pictured their future together when it was all over. Did he see their future exactly as it was at this moment? Lying down together on a comfortable bed, pretending that the rest of the world didn't exist? Haji had grown up differently than she had, as a human always, and she had to keep reminding herself that at one point, he, like every other man of his time, had wished to grow up and fall in love and marry, and grow old and eventually die. However, Haji seemed to be content with his relatively new life as a chevalier, even though he hadn't chosen it himself. No matter how much war he saw, or how much blood he saw her drink, he'd kept his thoughts purely divine and human. Sometimes she was so grateful for that, but sometimes she wondered if it was really hurting him. After all was said and done, she could only come so close to the future he wished for.

He was always relishing in the idea that the world was finally returning to normal, and she was always right there with him. She wanted so badly to give that future to him. Haji had given her his devotion and eternal love, and she wanted to give him the life he always dreamed for them.

As she lay there, his arms blanketed around her, she tried not to feel guilty about the things that were out of her control, knowing it would made him feel worse in the end.

The wedding had to be canceled, of course. It was Haji that had accepted it and not made a fuss, but the look in his eyes when the Red Shield discussed a plan of action told her that there were many more things he had prepared for her that were cancelled, as well.

-

"_Is there any way to specify what was in those reports?" David had made it sound more like an order than a question._

"_I requested more information, but there's no way to trace the informant. Joel went to pull up any old contacts and see if he could dig anything up." Okamura seemed so old when he looked defeated._

_Haji had stiffened by her side. The few breaths he needed to take were rigid, and the air sounded like knives going down his throat. She could feel his heart pumping rapidly through the vein in the arm still wrapped around hers. It pulsed so loudly, she wondered why no one else could hear it._

"_We have to get her far away. Soon." Haji sounded cold and resolute._

_Julia and Mao supported the idea instantly, with Lulu and Kai nodding solemnly._

"_I agree," David said. "The only problem is what to do about the Corpse Corps."_

"_What about them?" Haji cut him off aggressively._

_The elder David didn't respond well to Haji's hostility, and certainly didn't back down._

"_You know as well as I do that we need her to fight if we intend to eradicate them."_

_Saya felt her lover tighten his grip around her arm. He took a deep breath, and seemed much calmer as he responded, "That isn't an option."_

_Saya jerked as sharply as David did. She never expected him to put his foot down on something like _this._ They stared at him incredulously while the rest of the room reeled at his suggestion. _

"_Are you out of your mind?!" David started to rant, before his son touched his arm and jumped to defend Haji._

"_No, Dad, I think he has a point," David Jr. said quickly. "I don't think we can let her fight." _

_The room stared at the young doctor with accusing eyes._

_He continued, oblivious to the chagrin emanating from his father. "My mother said that Dr. Collins was Diva's personal physician for over a year, so we know that he has blood samples from before and after her pregnancy." He looked to his mother before going on. She gave a suspicious nod and he continued eagerly as always. "That means that he had a supply of active and potent blood to use against Saya if he ever needed to. When he sold his research, we don't know which samples and data he gave them. But when they killed him, I'd bet anything they raided just about everything he had." He looked very serious as his eyes wandered the room._

"_I studied the little research my mother had from the Corpse Crops thirty years ago, and we concluded that those models were made from Diva's blood after she became pregnant, while the Schiff were created from her active blood. Had they continued to use potent blood when they 'improved' the Schiff models into the Corpse Corps," (he put the emphasis on "improved" for Lulu's sake, and she gave a small smile) "I'm almost sure they would be an entirely new threat. We were able to isolate certain components of Saya's blood that were different from a normal human's, and we used many of them in actual research. If the research team over in Egypt has Diva's potent samples, which I'm guessing they do, then I'm sure they've isolated the compound that's deadly to Saya and used it in the creation of the new Corpse Corps."_

"_But why would they bother changing the formula?" Sonomi asked, the curiosity on her face obvious over the fear. _

_Aoko finished her sister's train of thought. "The research Collins sold them must have had the whole thing planned out for them. I really don't think they'd change it without a good reason."_

_Julia answered this time. "They could have found Saya's file mixed in with the research Collins sold them, or found it after they killed him. They've had the research for years; they've had plenty of time to perfect any formula he gave them." Her tone darkened significantly as she continued._

"_And we have to remember, Collins and I worked together for the Red Shield for a long time. He was one of the most trusted operatives before he defected. I'm sure he had at least a few samples of Saya's blood, as well as Diva's. If Saya were ever to become a problem or show herself, I'm sure they'd want to know how to get rid of her."_

"_We already have one organization after her," Haji spat mercilessly. "If you seriously intend to ask her to fight the only people that can kill her, while she's currently being stalked by the most powerful government in existence..." He trailed off menacingly..._

-

Haji began slowly stroking the sensitive skin just behind her earlobes, and he heard her sigh quietly into his shirt.

"Are you thirsty?" He leaned close and bent his head so that their cheeks were rubbing softly against one another's.

The proximity was more than she could handle. It was times like these that she felt that Haji was in denial of their chiropteran instincts. She could feel the beast inside of her begging to come out, to shed this human skin and feed her unquenchable thirst.

How could Haji resist that urge? Every time she'd wait too long between the Red Shield's complimentary blood services, she would notice with extra precision when a jogger or an excited person walked by. Any powerful heartbeat would catch her attention, and she would hold her normal gaze for an extra millisecond, just long enough to push down her primal instincts and try to find a happy medium between animalism and humanity.

Saya had thought her tall and mysteriously handsome lover had instituted the perfect middle ground until a few days after she had awakened. She'd been so occupied with catching up with her new family and the new world that was awaiting her, she didn't notice right away that her chevalier was using two perfectly elegant human hands to caress her arms and face, and that when she held his hand, it was never the same one as the previous time.

When she'd finally made the shocking discovery, she was so overjoyed, but he'd looked away shamefully, and told her in a soft voice that when he had finally dug his way through the rubble of he Metropolitan Opera House, he had lost so much blood he was like a starving animal, and had waited until nightfall to drag himself to the closest intact building, and nourished himself with what he found inside. He meekly defended his actions by admitting that he hadn't killed, or even been seen by any of the people residing in the apartments, and that none of the people were hurt by his actions, but he mentioned that the building was very large, and that there were at least two hundred grown people sleeping soundly inside of it.

When he awoke from his appetite-induced craze, his hand had morphed back into its human counterpart, and any previous scars or marks had healed completely. It was obvious to Saya then that Haji hadn't found the middle ground at all; he was merely denying his chiropteran instincts in a desperate attempt to stay human.

But Saya couldn't be so strong. She tried to quell her animalistic urges when he leaned in close, but she smelled his familiar scent, and felt the gentle thrumming of his heart, her human heart and chiropteran heart seemed to meld together, and no matter how powerful her restraint was, her lust and hunger for him could not be controlled.

"Y...Yes..." she responded.

He pulled her up when he sat up slightly. She reached longingly towards his neck, and he was already unbuttoning the top of his shirt with his perfect hands. She let the stress of the day envelop her as she raked her fingers through his wavy hair. She nudged him forcefully to the wall, and he rested his hands discreetly on her hips as she dove into his neck.

She had once rebelled against the taste. It had been the thing that made her relive the memories of her painful past over and over, and awakened her from her normal life in Okinawa. But now she swam in the powerful ambrosia dripping slowing down the neck of her fiancé. Saya shrugged closer to his chest and draped herself over him as she continued to seductively drain her chevalier.

She drew away from him when she felt his shoulders droop ever-so-slightly, but he held her there, and adjusted her so that she was nestled comfortably against him and in between his legs. His back was propped against the wall, and Saya's head rested against his rapidly beating heart.

"I'm so sorry, Haji..." She cuddled closer to him. He stiffened instantly, but almost seemed to laugh it off.

"Why, my love? You have nothing to be sorry for," he cooed and soothed as and he pet her head softly. He got tenser after a few minutes.

"Saya... My queen..." he began softly. His fingers stroked her hands sensually, and stopped at the ring finger on her left. He fiddled gently with the ring he'd placed upon it only days ago. Saya glanced down at it, and it shimmered quietly in the moonlight peeking through the blinds covering the window. He's picked a beautiful ring, she thought; it had a large diamond in the center shaped like a teardrop, with two ovular diamonds on either side, both tinted soft pink. It was an extravagant piece, but it looked so comfortable resting on her hand that she didn't think about the cost. Saya hadn't understood, before she really examined the ring, and the clothes he wore, and the price tag on the French wedding dress she was surprised she understood, that after over two-hundred years of living, Haji must have accumulated an immense amount of wealth.

Haji continued to play with the ring adorning her hand while she stared at it thoughtfully. He whispered quietly, "When I gave you this ring, it was merely a material expression of the love I have for you."

Saya tried to lean away from him to look at his face, but his arms locked her against him.

"But the ring, and the wedding as well, couldn't mean less to me, because you agreed to marry me, and to live out the rest of the life that you gave me, _with_ me."

She was confused at the sudden intensity of his voice, and while she wanted to comfort him, and reassure him, her curiosity outweighed her concern, and she waited for him to finish so that she could properly console him. He held her so tightly that they fit together like puzzle pieces. She relished in the closeness as he continued.

"And when I heard you say those words, it gave me the hope I never dared to have. To believe that you loved me as much as I do you. I know that I will never be able accurately profess my undying love for you."

She breathed in his scent at those words, and sighed in relief. However, his hands clenched the smooth skin on her wrist rigidly and almost painfully, and Saya realized that her lover hadn't finished.

"And it means so much to me," his tone was loving and cold at the same time. "So much," he continued, "that I am the only man you wish to spend eternity with..." He trailed off, but leaned down to whisper into her ear.

"And that I am the only man that will ever be in your thoughts."

He rested his chin on the top of her head, and his hair tickled her forehead.

She was aghast at his pseudo-accusation, at first. Haji couldn't possibly think that after all of this time, that she held romantic feelings for another man, and Saya could only assume he was referring to the blonde chevalier that had swept her off her feet during the war with Diva so many years ago. The same one that had beaten him to the punch, and proposed marriage to her first. But he was an afterthought only, a comrade who had given his life for hers. He was like Moses or Karman, and Saya viewed her constant thoughts of him as a memoriam.

But hearing the frosty tone in his voice made her rethink what had him concerned. While Haji would always have her heart, there were parts of her mind that were not always devoted to the future they were going to spend together. Although it was Haji's choice for a wedding gown that left her in awe, it was the dress that resembled Solomon's that left her heart pounding.

She had resolved to live out the rest of her life contently, with his memory serving only as an unsolicited, yet strangely heartwarming memory to those she had left behind. She couldn't be happier with the life that was awaiting her. And she was sure that Haji would have been able to live with that. He had no way of knowing the real reason behind the extra minutes she spent in that certain rejected dress, and he would never know of the attentiveness she put on the memories she had of Solomon. Saya was positive that her beloved chevalier had only put emphasis on her thoughts and future thoughts because of the interesting discovery she came across at the end of the Red Shield's meeting...

-

"_Well," Kai began warily, like he was crossing on a rickety bridge. "We do have one option..."_

_Everyone in the room, save Saya, Sonomi, and Aoko, gave a slight visible jerk. Saya looked around when no one elaborated on Kai's suggestion, and she stopped at Haji's stern face._

"_What's he talking about?"_

_Julia saved Haji from explaining, and she turned her body to talk more comfortably to Saya._

"_We know that there are dangerous and powerful people looking for you," Julia began. She sounded like she was talking to a child, the way she explained so calmly and slowly. "And we know that those running the Corpse Corps have ways of terminating you, so there's no way that you can come and fight them in Egypt. The reports inform us that the US government has been able to track every Red Shield member, and through us, they'll be able to find you."_

"_So," Kai cut in, when Julia took a breath, "We need you to go someplace where they won't be able to trace you." He rubbed his temple with his left hand._

_Saya looked once again at Haji, and tried to sound cheery when she asked him, "Well, where are we going?"_

_Haji didn't meet her gaze, and neither did anyone else, and she realized that she was missing something very, very important._

"_Saya," David said professionally. It must have been hard to sound so businesslike, given the circumstances. "Haji is one of the few people here that can still battle chiropterans. We are going to need him and the twins to accompany us to the Middle East to destroy the Corpse Corps once and for all."_

_Saya turned sharply at her comrades when they seemed to have already come to this conclusion..._

_-_

Saya reached up and cupped Haji's face in her hands. He let her out of his vice-like grip, but his arms were still wrapped around her waist protectively. She positioned her body so that she could lean her forehead against his, and she rubbed her face against his cold features sensually. She had to get on her knees to reach his handsome visage, and his hands moved slowly from her waist to her thighs, and she shivered at his touch.

She stopped nuzzling when their lips were perfectly aligned, and she leaned in, but instead of kissing him, she licked his lips suggestively, and bit down hard. Blood began to trickle down his lower lip and chin, and she relished the taste when she began kissing him passionately.

He returned the kiss gratefully, and the blood continued to flow into her mouth. She used it to reassure her faithful chevalier of her affection, and used it as a distraction from her memories of the rest of the meeting...

-

"_You want me to leave all of you to go off and fend for yourselves against them?" She was suddenly very angry. "You expect me to sit back and watch you fight without me?! You can't!" _

_Haji patted her hand comfortingly, while Julia elaborated and tried to calm her._

"_Saya... You have to understand, this isn't like last time, when we needed you to fight. It's exactly the opposite. This time, we need you to stay away from the battle. The new Corpse Corps have been conditioned to fight normal humans, and you, if given the situation. If the twins fight with Haji, then they won't have a strategy because they won't have blood as a weapon."_

"_But their blood will hurt Haji as much as it would hurt me!" Saya started. "And you can't possibly bring the twins into this—they're practically children!" She was still so furious._

"_They will need my help training them for combat, and leading them in the mission," Haji said coolly. While it was obvious he wasn't happy about fighting again, she could tell he had no intention of letting her fight alongside him._

_The twins sat up straight and looked as Saya. They were as serious as she'd ever seen them._

"_We knew this was always a possibility," Aoko stated, clasping Sonomi's waiting hand. "We are prepared to do what it takes to help."_

_She stared at them all in disbelief, but saw quickly that it was a losing battle. Saya had a trump card, though, and knew that Haji would never allow what she was going to suggest._

"_So you expect me to stay here alone? To fight off the US troops when they come for me?" Haji stiffened at her side, and she waited for him to suggest that she accompany them._

_However, it was Kai who spoke, and he seemed very nervous as he did._

"_Well, this is where that 'option' comes in," her brother began awkwardly. All of her old friends seemed suddenly more anxious. "We know of one person that the US hasn't been able to trace, and who could theoretically protect you and keep you off the radar."_

_Haji's body was stiff and rigid, and Saya peered at Kai suspiciously._

"_Kai, the only people that know about me are right here, except for Joel. And everyone here is being tracked right now..."_

"_We've recently been informed that one of our old... comrades... survived, when we assumed otherwise..." David seemed awkward speaking to Saya with Haji so close._

_Saya's eyes widened, and she wondered why she had to tell herself not to get her hopes up, when she should be distraught at the situation._

"_It's a last resort, of course, but it seems to be our only option at this late stage..."_

_The way David was talking, the tension in the room so thick it was almost visible, Haji's reaction, Kai's reaction... All of the pieces were coming together to form a picture of him in her mind, but she didn't dare look at it._

"_He's been living comfortably in New York under a new pseudonym. He's contacted us a few times so we would not be alarmed if he made an appearance."_

_It just wasn't possible. There was no possible way..._

"_While we infiltrate the Corpse Corps site in Egypt, we have to get you far away from Okinawa. They have no way of tracing you if you aren't with any Red Shield members, so it's imperative that you go alone to an untraceable location." He seemed to be justifying it more to the rest of the room than to Saya, who had yet to take a breath._

_She waited for him to say it out loud, and the room was so tense that it was as if David was handling a live grenade. _

_Okamura beat him to the punch, though, and with a grin and a chuckle said the only thing that could have shattered the room's atmosphere and make the fury radiating out of Saya's now fuming chevalier more obvious..._

_-_

As if on cue, Haji took the offensive, and shoved her roughly down on the bed. She was so drunk off of the lust she suffered for him, and the anxious feeling the meeting left her with, she barely noticed the metal springs in her bed creaking under the pressure of him forcing her down. She went so willingly, yet Haji held her as if she were resisting. He finally tore himself away from the kiss, and she saw for the first time chiropteran eyes burning back at her.

"Angel. Cherished. Divine. Goddess..." With each word he would kiss a different part of her face softly. He was almost pleading. "My love, my sweet, my most precious..." He trailed off and slowly stopped kissing her. He sat up once he seemed to cool down, and brushed Saya's face with the back of his hand softly. Despite the eager feeling his touch aroused in her, she found herself tired, finally bogged down by the events of the past twenty-four hours. Haji slid the covers seamlessly from beneath her and tucked her inside of them, leaving her arms free to reach for him.

He leaned directly above her, and the way the moonlight shone against his perfect face emphasized his ethereal beauty. No other face on earth could look so serious and beautiful at the same time. When he finally spoke, his breath encircled her sweetly.

"Saya, I would gladly wait a thousand lifetimes to marry you, and stay with you, so long as your feelings for me never changed." She wasn't sure if she was fading from consciousness, or if he was fading away from her.

"I know that one day, the world will allow us to be together, and that you will finally be mine always. I need to know that you will be waiting there alongside me." She mumbled a confirmation, but he insisted.

"I need to know that you will always wait for me..."

She smiled, and breathed in his sweet scent before mumbling once more to his fading silhouette, and he disappeared. Clouds covered her eyes, and her body's muscles collapsed comfortably into sleep.

Saya heard the last little tidbits of the Red Shield meeting coursing though her mind before it stirred up a distracting dream, and she heard Okamura's comment one last time...

"Fuck_, Saya; I bet Solomon will be happy to see you!"_

Her last conscious moments were spent wondering why the prospect comforted her.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: Woo-hoo! Chapter 5 is done! I hope you liked it. Chapter 6 is going be really important, so I hope that you guys keep reading! Please review, wonderful readers! They will be very appreciated! :D


	6. Show Me

A/N: Hello there, readers! I apologize for the long wait. This chapter was actually very difficult to write, because I wanted it to have a certain feel, and I couldn't get it right. I'm happy with it, though, so please enjoy!

Oh! Also, to Nikki-hime, I HAVE drawn fan-art for this... the only way I could describe the fashion correctly was if I saw it in front of me...hahaha(--Cheesy author right there).

But anyway, please read and review!

--

Chapter 6: Show me

_Someone get me a priest_

_To put my mind to bed_

_This ringing in my head_

_Is this a cure or is this a decease_

_Nail in my head_

_From my creator_

_You gave me life_

_Now show me how to live_

_(Audioslave)_

--

"We are experiencing some turbulence; please fasten your seatbelts, and stay seated until the lights above you indicate that it is safe to move around the cabin. Thank you."

The pleasant voice repeated the statement in various languages, a few of which Saya understood. An overly friendly flight attendant stopped by her first-class seat for the 5th time in three hours, and she gently refused his offer for another drink or pillow as he hovered over the businessman sleeping next to her. The group had thought that sitting farthest from the aisle would stop overzealous people come paying close attention to her, but that obviously wasn't the case.

She had already decided that the smartest thing to do would be to sleep as much as she could on the plane trip. Even though she had to give the future credit for making the seats as spacious and comfortable as any bed, the red queen still found it difficult to fall into slumber. That, however, was due to what was going on inside of her head, rather than what it was resting on.

Her head replayed the day in an attempt to tire her out.

--

"Haji..." Saya mumbled sleepily, pulling her face from the top of his chest. The uppermost buttons of Haji's shirt were still unbuttoned, and she was happy to find that he hadn't taken his normal spot on the chair next to her bed, as he usually did as soon as she'd fallen asleep. She was surprised, too, when she realized that she didn't notice the cello music missing from her sleep last night until after she'd woken up, and wondered why its absence didn't leave her feeling empty. The thought fell out of her head when Haji didn't stir at her voice.

"Haji, I think I have to get up now..." She tried to pull away, but his arms gave just enough leeway for her to lift her hands over his and touch his face. Her fingers teased his hair, and she got enough of it out of his features for her to see his magnificent royal eyes staring at the ceiling.

"Saya," he said when she opened her mouth to speak again. He looked thoughtful. "My dear, have you any idea how wonderful the past two days have been?" Haji bent his head so that his cheek lay gracefully on the pillow, and nuzzled his face into her hair. His question was obviously a rhetorical one, but she gave a soft purr of agreement and smiled.

Although Haji had been much calmer than anyone else had been following the meeting, Saya could tell that their impending separation was taking its toll on him. It didn't seem to hurting him, but _changing_ him. Suddenly, verbalizing his declarations and oaths of love and loyalty was more important than actually expressing them, and if asked to describe Haji's nature in one word, 'possessive' would never have been the first word to come to mind until now.

She didn't mind it, of course. She probably wouldn't have given his new little quirks a second glance if their arrival wasn't so suspiciously close to her departure. She gave into his attentiveness, too; how could she not? The man you wish to spend eternity with doting over you every minute of every day... But Saya could tell that he _needed _her confirmations of her unchanging love, because she knew that was too much to ask for Haji to admit his insecurities out loud.

"You know, I think most of them have been avoiding us." His statement was almost a chuckle, though he wasn't smiling.

She shifted herself so that she was propped up on her elbow staring at him. She giggled at his conjecture and responded, "You certainly don't seem to mind..." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before reaching over her so that she was pinned under his arms.

"Of course not," He began clearly. Haji didn't meet her gaze as he swung his leg over as well, and started softly kissing the edges of her face.

"How could I?" he said after tracing her cheekbone delicately with his lips. "All the more time to prepare you for what is awaiting you..." He trailed off, and his soft tone was a direct contrast to increasing intensity of his passion. He put his hand on the small of her back and lifted her effortlessly into him. He sat up on his knees and Saya felt weightless and he collapsed back onto the bed with her on top of him without a sound.

She smiled at him warmly, and hummed appreciatively into his neck. He was like a block of ice beneath her. She could feel his heart beating, and she knew Haji's body heat better that anyone else's, but he was rigid and cold under her, and no matter how much he smiled at her, or how kindly he spoke to her, she could always see the traces of sadness or anger that emerged when he'd turn away.

"Haji," She started. She was lying gracefully on top of him, and she moved her hands from his chest to his face, forcing her chevalier to look up at her.

"Haji, I love you."

Saya bent down to kiss him, but he sat up suddenly and grabbed her face between his elegant hands. He kissed her so passionately and forcefully that her back was bent almost parallel to her knees—too painful for a human to have gotten extreme pleasure from. He pulled away from him and his eyes were glistening.

"Yes, Saya. Thank you, my queen."

Haji got off of the bed, buttoned up the remaining buttons of his shirt, and slid his jacket on. He was smiled slightly, but he rarely wasn't these days; around her, anyway. The key word was _'slightly'_. So much could be hidden behind a tiny grin.

"Kai and the others are probably waiting for us downstairs. It's still early, but I believe they want to go over everything again before you depart." The way he was looking at her, it was almost as if he has reverted to the servant he once was. But then he smiled genuinely for the first time in days.

"I know that you're worried. You have no reason to be." He walked over to her. She was sitting on the side of the bed with her legs hanging over the edge. He slid his hand behind her neck and massaged his hand through her scalp. He didn't kneel down to meet her face, but he bent down and whispered in her ear.

"Show me a tomorrow where we are not together. That is the only thing that could ever worry me. But I am not worried." He kissed her on the cheek and straightened up.

"I'll be waiting." He said it so quietly that only she could hear as he closed the door.

--

"There you guys are," Kai stated once they'd made it down into dining area. Their group was dispersed among the tables closest to the bar, where Kai was leaning with his arms stretched across it. "We'd better get everything settled while we still have time."

"I thought you'd never wake up, Saya!" Sonomi called from the little couch reserved for customers waiting to be seated. When Saya turned to her niece, she saw the notice on the front of the Omoro. Even though it was technically backwards from her standpoint, she read it perfectly—

CLOSED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE

10-1-2036

Sorry for the inconvenience!

"It's probably because she's been having trouble sleeping," Aoko said to her sister off-handedly. She then muttered under her breath, "God knows we have..."

"What makes you say that?" Saya asked. She'd never seen the twins grumpy before, and anything big enough to rattle them stole her attention.

"Well, we normally get to sleep listening to that music he's always playing." Sonomi motioned half-heatedly at Haji. "But he wasn't playing last night."

"Freaked the hell out of us," Kai laughed. "I guess we all got so used to it."

Saya looked briefly at her chevalier, who was looking at the early morning sun shining through the window across the room. David shattered the light-hearted atmosphere by clearing his throat, bringing them all back to the matter at hand.

"Saya, your plane leaves Tokyo International at 5pm today. The flight will take about thirteen hours, so you will arrive at John F. Kennedy International Airport at around 6am tomorrow morning, our time. When you arrive in New York, it will be approximately 4pm Sunday afternoon."

"And it's 6 o'clock Sunday morning now. You'll gain a few hours, so prepare for a little jet-lag," Julia said helpfully. She said it with a smile, and Saya could tell she too felt the tension rising the more they spoke about it.

"Everything you need is in this," Joel handed her a manila envelope, and she reached to take it. "It has everything anyone could possibly ask of you—a New York state ID, a birth certificate, the birth certificates of both of you parents, your social security card, your plane ticket, and, well, you get the idea."

"Your name is Michi Nicholson, you're 21 years old, and you're returning from an extended stay in Japan visiting your mother's family," Okamura said confidently. Saya could tell by the way he was holding himself that he had created her back-story.

"You were born on December 12th, 2015 in Burlington, Vermont, to Robert and Meriko Nicholson. Your mother's maiden name is Nakakihara; it's your password for anything, in case you're asked."

"But why would I..." she began asking the reporter. She trailed off.

"It's just a precaution," Mao said cheerily. Her attitude, given the situation, was almost unsettling. "Security's a bitch, sometimes, you know?"

"There is a credit card in there as well," Joel started. "It's wired to a private Swiss Bank account. It's completely untraceable, and it's secured for at least three million dollars."

"Th-three million..." She stared at the smiling faces disbelievingly. The way they met her gaze—not quite at her, but through her—made her feel like they were putting on a show for her. She furrowed her brow, and turned toward Haji, who had roamed from her side in favor of David and Julia's, and stared at them accusingly.

"Wait a minute," she was raising her voice, "exactly how long is this going to take?"

"There is no way to determine the amount of time it will take to complete the mission." David's voice was unwavering.

"I realize that. I want an estimate." Her voice matched his.

"Considering the volatile nature of this task, there is no way to make an estimate beyond the time limit that we have established, which according to the reports, is seven months."

"You said you didn't think it would take that long," she reminded him.

"I don't think it will."

"Then why—"

"It's a precaution."

She was about to object again when Haji returned to her side and put a placating hand on her head, letting it slide down her back. He smiled at her, and placed a finger over her parted lips. Although she wasn't sure how genuine his smile was, the look in his eyes made it clear that now was not the time to discuss the trivial dollars nestled safely in her hidden bank account. She sensed the audience watching her for the first time in the past few minutes, and decided to let it go. For now.

--

The Red Shield really had everything covered, and Saya realized that in all the years they had been in operation, situations like this must have happened before. It was probably Mao that had the common sense to write her out a meticulous back story. It was just detailed enough to give her an idea of the person she had to be, in order to pull off being a real human. Her charismatic friend had even placed her life story inconspicuously in between the pages of a script. It was a play she'd never heard of, and it was possible that Mao had made the entire thing up from scratch, but it was completely convincing. Scene four, act 2, went seamlessly from an argument between Roberta Corvallis and Alfonso, the Mexican drug lord of Tijuana, to five pages of detailed accounts of her new history and new persona.

_--Michi's parents died in a car accident when she was 18, and she waited a year before attending Burlington Community College, two years later attaining an associate's degree in humanities._

Saya skipped to the next page, where she had stopped, the last time she read it through.

-- ..._Albany, New York, where she will be staying with the son of her late father's business associate, Solomon Rosdale, until the start of the spring semester._

_Saya, _

_he would have called as soon as the arrangements were made, had it been possible. All cell phones are traceable, and the phone lines would have been tapped as soon as they found out about you. Everything's all set—he's got everything under control as soon as you set foot on the ground. He's looking forward to seeing you. Burn this manuscript as soon as you get there._

_--Mao_

The last part was handwritten on the sides, like a director's note or an acting reminder. She closed the manuscript and stuffed it into the bag at her feet. She turned her body towards the window and watched the moon and stars reflect off of the ocean. She tried to remember the rest of the day up until this point... anything to get rid of the slight hum in her chest that Mao's secret note left her with.

--

"The ferry leaves at eleven, right?" Lewis asked casually. Saya nodded, and tried to act natural, like it was a simple trip to the beach or to the mall.

"Well then, Kai," he called from his stool over his shoulder to the bronzed man. "That gives you plenty of time to cook us up some grub; I'm starving!"

The room laughed an agreement, and the twins jumped up to help their father, who was already preparing the meal. Haji led Saya over to a vacant table, placing his hand on the small of her back, and he pulled her chair out for her before David Jr. came over to greet them.

Feeding had always been a subtly awkward necessity to deal with. The portable little IV her doctor brought over to her (another convenient bonus of waking up every 30 years) was more pleasant for everyone watching, rather than seeing the queen drain her chevalier with the fangs that extended when blood was near. David Jr. made good-humored small talk with them as he stuck the needle into Saya's arm, and he looked apologetically at Haji when she winced ever-so-slightly. Haji smiled gently at him, amused and appreciating his caution, and began rolling up his own sleeve. Saya was still a little shocked whenever he did so—she had never actually seen him feed until she'd woken up this past time. He seemed casual enough with it, and Saya tried to look away.

"Saya, are you alright?" Haji's voice was velvet.

"Yes," she replied quickly. "I'm just nervous, is all."

He cupped her hands in hers, and stroked them with his thumb. She refused to meet his gaze.

"My love, don't worry. Everything will be fine."

She looked up at him, and he kissed her hands. Kai brought her a plate of food only minutes later, and she marveled at how smooth cooking went when her brother had the help of two fully grown chiropteran queens. Kai brought Haji a glass of water only, as her fiancé had politely declined his offers of delicious though unnecessary food too many times.

She always felt a tad uncomfortable eating in front of Haji. She wasn't sure which side of the spectrum she fell into; whether it was unnatural eating food as a chiropteran, or unsettling as a human to count blood as half a meal. The twins fed about three times as often as she did, twice everyday compared to Saya's once or twice every few. They never ate human food very much, whereas she ate all time. Haji rarely fed, and never ate, and the comparisons she made in her head made her wonder if any of the four of them were ruled completely by a chiropteran heart, or a human one.

When they were done, and the twins flitted over to clean up the dishes, Saya and Haji returned to her room to finish any uncompleted tasks, promising to be downstairs and outside the restaurant in two hours. Kai was planning on driving them to the harbor to meet the ferry, and their little farewell party would be short and sweet right before they departed.

"My car is waiting on the mainland for when we get there, just outside the entrance to the harbor," Haji informed her when they shut her bedroom door. Even though she knew he must have paid to have it ferried over there, she found the thought of him flying it over himself, wings and all, arms full of a shiny car she'd seen only a few times, very amusing. It was a nice contrast to the situation at hand. When she didn't reply, he continued talking.

"I've packed everything you need. It's always very warm here, but it's already getting cold in New York, so please remember to dress appropriately."

The term 'appropriately' stirred an odd emotion in her. The suitcases were all closed, of course, and she didn't dare open them up and rifle through them when he was standing right there. Saya wondered what kind of clothes he had prepared for her. What kinds were really 'appropriate' to wear around the man who had once proclaimed his undying love to her, despite her obvious relationship to another? She knew that even her chevalier's new possessive nature wouldn't force her to dress like a puritan around New York, but she was still curious at his insistence to pack for her.

"Haji," she said softly. He was leaning on the wall, and she was sitting on her bed. Saya was staring at her bedside table as he looked at her thoughtfully.

"I think you forgot something," she finished. The confusion on his face was apparent, but it was replaced by surprise as she reached over and grabbed a picture frame off of the oak next to her.

It really was a one in a million picture. It was taken at the beach, on one of the few nights Saya and Haji allowed company to tag along with them. It was the twins and Kai who had accompanied them this time, and whether it was Sonomi or Aoko who'd had the sense enough to bring a camera she had no clue, but whoever it was, she owed them a great deal of gratitude.

It was a photo of their backs, as they stared towards the ocean as the sun went down. The sky they captured could have been a watercolor painting—so full of untapped beauty and creativity and raw emotion. The colors popped so passionately that they reflected off of the clothes that the young couple wore. The pale yellows sparkled off of Saya's skirt as it fluttered in the wind, and the purples and reds danced in Haji's hair after she'd convinced him to let it blow gracefully in the sea breeze. Their hands were clasped together, and when Saya focused on the back of Haji's head, she noticed that his face was turned slightly downwards toward her, and if she squinted, she could see the light reflecting off of the waves and onto the small part of his face that was visible, where his smile was apparent. When she inspected it, she saw the utter joy in that look he gave her that she hadn't seen, and she knew that in her hands she held physical proof of his love for her.

"You want to bring that?" He seemed honestly surprised.

"Of course I do," she replied confidently. "I love this picture."

Before he could reply, she opened up one of the two suitcases he'd packed, and nestled it between two soft pieces of fabric she saw inside. She didn't look much at them—just felt around until she found two pieces thick enough to cradle it unwaveringly.

"Are you going to change before we leave?" he asked suddenly. There was actually a hint of worry and anxiousness in his voice. "I'm not sure if you'd be comfortable wearing that on such a long flight."

She didn't have to look at her dress (the same one he had brought her when she first awoke, as a matter of fact) to know her answer.

"I actually was going to, yes." She smiled at him as she walked over to her closet on the far side of the room. He smiled slightly back at her, and she opened her closet.

"I actually have some ready for you," he said. She thought she heard a hint of self-consciousness in his voice. "If you like."

Saya closed the closet door and smiled thoughtfully at her lovely chevalier. The way he stared at her was striking. Throughout the conversation, he had since sat down on the chair nearest her bed, and when she reached him, she wondered if there was ever a more beautiful sight then him looking up at her.

"You don't have to baby me, Haji," she said as she sat down on his lap and nuzzled herself into his neck. His arms took a minute to wrap themselves around her.

"I _like_ babying you..." He was almost pouting, but she heard darker, colder tones in his voice.

"I _like_ babying you, because I like _being_ the one babying you." She had never heard him speak so informally towards her. Although she was relieved at his emotion, she had to wonder: Was jealously the key to making him express himself so openly?

"I greatly enjoy the thought of you living with me, with the things I have bought for you, living in a place that I have found for you, in a future that I have prepared and made for you.

"And the thought," he continued tensely, "of you being with someone other than me, even for just a moment, makes me feel so unbearably angry. Because I want you to be doing those things with _me_." Saya expected Haji's arms to tighten around her to match his rising heart rate, but they refused to move closer to her.

She took his face in her hands, and kissed him softly. His lips refused to comply when she tried to deepen it.

"Haji, my Haji," she began tenderly. Her gaze tried desperately to break through the mask that she thought she'd broken long ago. "You said you were not worried."

Something in his eyes changed then. It was as if all of the passion and love that they had shared in the past few days turned off, and the deep blue staring back at her seemed suddenly very dull. They just stared at each other for what seemed like forever, but as soon as Saya was about to speak to break the intolerable tension, her chevalier took her by her waist and propped her up standing, and got up quickly.

"You are right," he exclaimed. He was smiling now, though is eyes were empty of any emotion, except perhaps the smallest speck of anger. "I am not worried."

"We had better get downstairs soon," he said as he slid past her over to her suitcases. There were only two of them, not counting a smaller one attached comfortably to the handle of the littler of the two. They would be easy enough to recognize in baggage claim, she would be able to easily maneuver through an airport with those, even though a normal woman of her size would find it difficult. He picked up her luggage and headed for the door.

"Haji," she said quickly. "Are you—"

"Your clothes are hanging on the edge of your bed," he said offhandedly, as if he hadn't heard her.

"Haji, wait! I—"

"Don't forget to bring down your carry-on bag when you're done changing. You put all of your information in it, remember?"

She caught his arm as he was going out the door.

"Haji, I didn't mean to say that! I'm sorry!" she said, exasperated.

He gave her an innocent and quizzical expression.

"For what?" He smiled at her. He gave her a hand a little squeeze and shut the door behind him.

She stood motionless after that. She could almost feel the beautiful man from the photograph, gazing adoringly at her, melting and dripping away. But maybe Haji wasn't dripping away—maybe the newest of the traumatic events dotting their exceptionally long lifetimes caused him to harden once again into something new; something aggressive and petulant and animalistic. She saw flickers of it every now and then, ever since she had learned of the other, enemy chevalier's continued existence. She had thought that her lover's fingers tightened around hers out of fear of the situation, but perhaps if was the fear of something else that caused him to break her elegant digits.

She slipped into the clothes he had laid out for her, and resolved to put out whatever fire was melting the personality of her beloved. There had to be a way to quell his human fears and reassure him that if there was anything pure and good and honest in the world, the love between a chevalier and his queen would be.

Haji was waiting for her in the empty dining room when she finally came down the stairs. Haji stared at her form as soon as she came into view, and he seemed to have calmed enough to smile lightly at her.

She was surprised at the clothes he'd set out. Stylishly thick jeans looked so casual and average matched with the white buttoned blouse she wore over black and grey layered tank tops. The heat forced her to roll up her sleeves to her elbows, and leave the blouse unbuttoned. Her straight hair flipped slightly at the ends, and she shifted her leather tote bag on her shoulder when she ran her hands through it. As she did so, Saya's vividly stunning wedding ring sparkled in the sunlight beaming though the windows.

As she walked over to Haji, hie seemed suddenly desperate to see her. Her chevalier started to get up to meet her, but Kai burst through the door, and Saya and Haji both looked away.

"We've got most of your stuff in the van already," Kai said. She found herself happy to hear a hint of strain in his voice as he attempted to say it cheerfully. "Everyone's waiting outside." Kai let the door thump against the doorjam as he joined the other members of their party in the fresh air. Before she could even take a whole step towards the door, Haji was at her side, with his fingers laced delicately in hers. She agreed with his loving notion and threw their last conversation away, justifying it to herself with the argument that her fiancé was only human.

She saw Lulu first, and smiled tenderly at her. She seemed so human standing there, her complexion pale but natural looking, and her hair down and blowing in the wind. As Saya bent down to hug her, she realized that the last Schiff had grown just enough to pass for a petite young adult. As she pulled away, Saya said to her,

"Lulu, please watch out for the twins. Be careful, okay?"

"Of course I will!" she replied confidently, and flipped a thumbs-up at her.

"Julia, David..." She started to almost tear up when she reached them. "Thank you so much." She couldn't continue, when the thought of them, the people who had practically been like foster parents to her, dying never coming back flashed in her head.

"You can thank us when we come back," David told her sternly, but gently. Julia was more obvious with her affection.

"When it's all over, we'll finally accept your thanks." The doctor hugged her. "Remember everything we talked about for when you get there. Take care." Saya muffled an agreement, her face pressed into the folds of Julia's coat, and moved on.

It was much of the same, good-byes and good-lucks, until she reached Mao and the twins. Kaori had already gone off for an extended vacation to Osaka to visit her husband's family, with him none the wiser as to why she was suddenly enthusiast to go, and he hardest people to say farewell to were taking her the rest of the trip.

Mao reached for Saya before she said anything, and Saya found herself cluching her attractive older friend tightly.

"Saya, everything is taken care of." Mao sounded serious despite the smile she wore. "If you're confused about anything—I mean it, anything, you'll find the answer in that envelope." She felt Mao rustle the leather bag quickly, and she sounded relieved. "Good, I was honestly a little afraid you forgot it."

She and Mao shared a brief moment of understanding, with their hands cupped together between them, before Saya looked over at Diva's lovely daughters.

The way they stood there was so absolutely fascinating. Their gazes were so piercing and bright, and they stood still like two aloof marble statues. Black shining hair swam in the breeze, and they looked at her affectionately.

"Sonomi, Aoko," she patted their heads and stroked their beautiful hair. "I can't believe you're going to be fighting. " She leaned in close and hugged them tightly, one on either side of her. Saya shifted her head so that it was directly in between Sonomi's right ear, and Aoko's left.

"Please, for me, take care of Haji. And for Kai's sake, be careful. You are family."

She kissed them both on the cheek, and the twins pecked the cheeks of their aunt lovingly.

"Don't worry, Auntie Saya," Sonomi said joyfully, though the oldest red queen saw the serious lines in her flawless face.

Aoko rested a graceful hand on her sister's arm, and smiled reassuring at her Aunt. Saya nodded at them, and took a step back to meet Haji, who had finished any last-minute preparations for her departure.

"Thank you all so much," she began. She felt like she was giving them some sort of speech, and she was the one trying to sound cheerful now. "I'm... not really sure what to say. All of you, please be careful. I know you'll succeed with the mission. I'll be fine, so you don't have to worry..."

"Come on, sis," Kai patted her back, and urged her body very slightly towards the shiny van. "Time to go."

Haji helped his queen into the backseat, and went around to the other side so she could look out the window facing her comrades, who were all waiting dutifully on the curb for them to pull away. Tears welled up in her eyes, and before Haji could buckle her seat belt for her, she rolled down the window and sat up on her knees to lean out.

Everyone was waving at her and smiling, though she saw a few of their eyes leaking, even as they got smaller and smaller the father Saya pulled away from them. She wanted to shout out something to them, maybe another good bye or good luck or thank you, but her throat wouldn't allow more than a few stifled sobs. The way her friends were grinning, happy in the face of battle, left her with such a strange feeling inside that she wanted to cry even harder. But she sucked it all back up, because she knew that the two most important people in her life were sitting around her, and she didn't want them to feel as nervous about the situation as she was.

"The drive to the port will about half an hour," Kai told her, looking at her through the rear view mirror. "You might want to look through all those papers again, since we only got them to you today." Saya was happy to see that her brother's voice suited the situation more now, than it had all week. Kai's voice was amiable no matter the circumstances, but the tenseness in his vocal cords was almost tangible now.

She rifled through her bag with considerable ease, considering Haji's arm was constricted around her waist. She smiled at the way he now readily made their relationship known to everyone, instead of hiding his feelings the way he once did. There were still many feelings he insisted on keeping to himself, as he had early this morning, but the warmth she felt from it now almost completely made up for it.

When she had finished organizing the various cards and IDs in her wallet, and placing the thick manila folder discreetly and casually between the few magazines she brought (mostly for show), they were at the harbor.

When they were out of the van, Haji nodded his head towards Kai, who was staring at the water lapping up against the sides of the old-fashioned pier. Saya smiled at her chevalier, who walked to the small office with their tickets and luggage, and she ran over to her brother.

"Sorry I can't drive you all the way, Saya," He said quietly when she embraced him. "We had to make sure and take the least traceable route. Cameras are everywhere on the streets nowadays, and hardly anyone takes this old ferry anymore."

"Kai," she murmured into his shirt as he hugged her tightly. She refused to let tears pass through, but she knew he could feel her gloom regardless. "I can't believe I'm letting you do this."

"Hey, relax kiddo." He mussed up her hair, and she smiled weakly up at him. His grin was genuine. "It'll be over before you know it." His tone darkened significantly, but he continued to reassure her.

"The battle will be way different, too, don't worry. Most everything is gonna be done from far away, we just need the twins and Haji as some muscle." He was smiling again, and he cupped his hand in hers.

"I know you'll be safe, Saya. I'll keep an eye on Haji for you; I'll make sure he doesn't go bananas without you next to him all the time." He chuckled a little, and Haji started walking over to them. They heard a small foghorn blow, and Kai patted her on the back and kissed her forehead.

"I'll miss you, hon. Be safe. We'll all see you again soon in no time. Say 'hi' to Solomon for me." Kai and Haji exchanged a glance, and when they didn't say goodbye to one another, Saya was reminded that after her lover drove her to the airport, she would be making the rest of the trip alone.

--

The thought had been both comforting and terrifying to her, then. She knew the two men accompanying her had felt the same way she did, but for different reasons. She knew that it was terrifying for them to think that the precious queen would be traveling by herself through controlled and supervised and highly watched means, but it was so much more comforting to think that after that brief fright, she would be safe with an untraceable guardian in an untraceable location.

However, the reason she felt both comforted and terrified involved Haji. She was terrified, because she was leaving him voluntarily for the first time, and because he was going off to fight alone, without her to stand alongside him. But she was reassured, too, because Haji wouldn't be in Okinawa when the US troops came to search for her clandestinely, and because Haji would not be in New York to see the look on Solomon's face when he saw her for the first time in over thirty years.

But now it was even worse. Any guilt Saya had for those feelings now concentrated itself into a burning hole in her side. While her humanity struggled to remind her what her friends were putting on the line, a part of her heart she didn't want to listen to was stuck on what Mao had written, and it was comforted that Solomon was eager to see her, and it was scared stiff of what he might think of her after all this time.

She rubbed her head with her hand, and actually accepted the hot towel that the sociable flight attendant offered her. She placed it on her head appreciatively, and tried to think of Haji only.

--

The ferry was quick and painless. The trip was only a little over an hour long, and she fell asleep resting on Haji's shoulder when they decided to wait out the ferry ride outside. Saya didn't remember fully waking up, although she remembered walking arm and arm with Haji and almost stumbling to his black Cadillac. When she finally came to, she saw a beautiful sun shining onto grass and hills, and a country-like backdrop. She turned her head from the window to the driver's seat and tried not to sound groggy.

"Isn't a Cadillac a little conspicuous?" she joked with him. He turned towards her and smiled.

"I'm glad you're awake. The ferry took us about 2 ports away from Tokyo harbor, and I decided to take a back road to avoid anything, just in case. I let you rest, since we'll be about an hour ahead of schedule." She nodded at him, and he finished. "And no, they're actually common in Japan now. They appear to be a new fad."

Saya looked at the dashboard, and it said it was only one o'clock in the afternoon. She adjusted herself in the seat so she would be comfortable awake, even though Haji suggested she sleep a while longer, and as she did so, she noticed her chevalier's cello case lying across the entire backseat. He spotted her looking at it.

"I thought perhaps I would have a chance to play for you before you go," he said thoughtfully. She nodded.

"But I doubt that will be possible," the handsome man continued. "We never know who is watching, and that _would_ look conspicuous." Haji seemed almost resentful at the thought of his plan being shot down due to the interference of outside sources. Saya decided to focus the concentration back to the two of them.

"I missed you playing last night," she said softly. She tried to make it sound mildly suggestive, but it came out just like any other sentence. The young woman refused to acknowledge why her heart didn't envelop the sentence, because she knew that her statement was a lie.

"I play for you almost every night," he chuckled, and Saya was relieved he hadn't detected her falsehood.

She thought he would continue, and Haji looked as though he was going to, but he instead stared straight ahead into the road. After what seemed like an eternity, she prodded at him.

"But not last night," she commented. He stiffened, and looked uncomfortable. However, the car turned to the right, and the tops of several tall buildings came into view. It distracted her just long enough to break the tension between them, and he reached his arm over to tuck the hair that hid Saya's face from him behind her ear. Their fingers entwined in the space between the two seats, and he smiled at her.

"Your plane leaves at five, and it's only just past one-thirty now," he began, turning onto a busier street leading into the city. Surely enough, his car blended right in, despite it being shinier and most likey more expensive than all those driving alongside it. "We should get to the airport at no later than four. It is a large airport, but you will have plenty of time to get to your terminal, and I don't like the idea of you waiting there alone for too long."

"In any case," his tone lightened significantly. "You must be hungry again by now. I would be glad to have dinner with you alone once more before you go." His eyes strayed from the crowded road and bore into her. She smiled timidly and blushed at his gaze.

"Yes, that would be nice," she said happily.

He seemed to know the roads by heart, and his impeccable sense of direction appeared to amplify when he was driving a car. Saya could see the airport very far in the distance when they parked next to plain and average-looking building. The afternoon sun reflected off of the windows that graced at least fifteen stories of shining metal, plaster, and glass. Haji took her arm and led her in.

The building itself was really the oyster covering the pearl. Once inside, the lovely queen saw sparkling chandeliers and glossy wood-tops, executives and marble countertops. A host appeared before them, and Haji requested, in a persuasively amiable voice, a table for two in the restaurant three stories up. The host (Jiho, she read) smiled at them and gave the couple an almost unnoticeable stare up and down, and seemed content with the formally stylish clothes her fiancé donned, and the expensive jewelry gracing her left hand. He escorted them to the elevator, where Haji's nonchalantly threatening gaze obliged the host to give them leave as soon as he touched the button inside the elevator that would take them upstairs.

--

She looked up at him, from across the table, "It was delicious."

Her loyal chevalier smiled back at her, and the waitress picked up the tab that Haji had slid a platinum-colored card into. He stared at her almost dreamily, and Saya smiled at him. Her heart pounded against her chest when she realized that this might be the last moment they had to actually converse before they put on a completely human show and parted. She looked at him intensely, and he noticed the change in her eyes immediately. She inwardly cursed herself for breaking their peaceful silence, but knew that she would never leave anywhere near contently until she had an answer.

"Yes?" he asked. She could tell he wanted to whisper her name in her ear, but he resisted the urge.

"Ha..." She began to say his name, but stopped herself. "Love, why didn't you play for me last night?"

Anyone not knowing the situation would have thought her crazy for putting so much emphasis on the small little change of events. But Saya knew that there were no logical human means that could keep him from playing the tune that had accompanied them throughout their centuries of living. He replied quietly after staring at her with an emotion she couldn't read.

"My dearest, every time I play that song, I remember when I first learned it. The song holds emotions for me that have leapt with us through time. When I first played for you, it was out of the joy of being with you. As time passed, the song became a reminder of the things we had done, and the things that you still felt you needed to accomplish. I played for you, my sweet, because I realized that our immortal melody was what connected us to the past, and I was selfish because those were my happiest times with you, and with every note I wished that no matter how much fighting you needed to do, you would always remember our history." He took a deep breath, and his gaze melted the chair underneath her.

"But it is no longer the past that I need you to focus on. The past is no longer what drives me to be with you. It is the future that I need now. It is the future that I need you to need now. I was a child, and feared that playing the song would distract you from what lies ahead, and that it might take away your resolve to deal with the grueling months before us. I apologize for that."

She was speechless at his confession, and she let it sink in, and she admired how human he let himself be. She reached her hands towards him along the table, and softly cupped them in his. He let her body slide forward slightly into the table as her pulled them up to his lips. When he kissed her fingers, his teeth bit gently down on the ring adorning her pale hand.

A group of fellow restaurant-goers looked at them adoringly from time to time from the tables adorning the large, almost empty floor of the restaurant. Saya had long since grown used to the eager response Haji drew from women, even at her boarding school in Vietnam, and she giggled along with them when he kissed her cheek from across the table.

"We should go, dearheart," he said, and his hand was out and ready when the waitress came to return his card. Saya pouted slightly, and he chuckled. When she rose, he placed his hand on the small of her back to lead her to the door, and the entire room seemed to follow their presence until they were gone. In her 'younger' days, Saya would have smiled at the thought of being the center of attention, except that now attention of any kind was... different.

Once they were back in his car, it only took about thirty minutes to reach the large airport. The sun was already moving quickly across the lovely sky, and she would have thought it was incredibly beautiful if it weren't symbolizing something much less astounding. By the time the day was completely over, something else would be over as well. Every second that passed, her time with her lover, fiancé, and chevalier ticked away. Part of her was excited for the time when the sun would rise again, and the beginning of something new would unfold in front of her, but the other half of her recognized how happy and fortunate she would have been to have continued to live the same wonderful days over and over, without the unwanted and strangely appealing interferences.

He parked far away from the actual airport, and they walked hand in hand in silence. He managed to take her luggage, hold her hand, and look careless all at the same time, while she had difficulty not feeling bogged down by just the leather bag and extra jacket Haji had insisted she take along. They had parked far away, and by the time the lovely couple reached the main entrance, the red queen's heart had begun to race.

Somehow there was a lull in the normally hectic airport walkways and halls, and they quickly checked her baggage and preceded to the last entrance any non-boarding escort could pass through.

"Haji." Her fingers were trembling as she gripped the front of his jacket. Saya used the full power of his name, even though she said it quietly. There were enough good-byes going on around them as to not make them look too conspicuous, though the female flight-attendants walked a little slower past them to get a better look.

"Haji," she repeated, her tongue loving the sound of his name. "I can't... Not you, Haji... Please don't fight. Don't go without me. Come with me."

He leaned down to kiss her cheek, and whispered almost jokingly in her ear, "I do not think Solomon would be very keen on that." He nibbled her ear, and she tried to suppress her foreign heart's urge to flutter at that name.

"Please," Saya choked, and found her sore eyes able to produce burning tears. "I love you. I don't want to leave you." Her voice was just as loud as any other human's now.

"I love you, Saya, so much." Such a loving, reassuring sound his voice was. "So much so that my heart cannot allow me to be so selfish as to let you stay with me now and be with me when we go."

He kissed her softly, and when she deepened it, Saya felt him rake his togue against one of her unintentionally extanded fangs. Their mouths together covered any evidence of the blood pouring down her throat. The part of her that was not enveloped by the liquid remarked inwardly that these last drops would have to sustain her lust for him for months. When he pulled away, his lips lingered against the corner of her mouth.

"As I said, show me a tomorrow where we are not together. A place and a time where our love is not the only thing certain. If you can show me that, then I will worry. That alone can scare me."

She kissed him forcefully again, then, and had to stop herself for fear of drawing attention to their parting. She stood on the tips of her toes to whisper her own sweet words to him, and he pushed her back down gently onto the balls of her feet. Haji and Saya shared a moment of harmony in their glances, and she shrugged her coat onto her arm and smiled.

"Be safe, and please hurry."

He smiled back at her. "I will. Have a safe trip, Michi."

--

The shock of him calling her by that name made the rest of the small trip to the gate a blur. She remembered a lot of escalators, and commotion about a mix-up with tickets or something, and then she found herself sitting on a one way flight to New York City. Saya had been lucky enough to sit next to a cheery, though very sleepy, American businessman, who was overjoyed to have someone who spoke English to converse with about current events and his late children before nodding off to sleep at around 7am US time.

"Good afternoon, passengers. We will be arriving at JFK international airport in roughly fifteen minutes. If you have not already fastened your seatbelts and shifted your seats to their upright positions, please do so now. The local time is 4PM." The voice overhead repeated the statement in French, and she laughed inwardly when the accent was off.

The man in the seat beside her stirred and spoke for the first time in hours.

"That's what I love about first class," the businessman said, as he yawned and stretched his arms. "I can sleep for hours. It's almost as good as home!" He laughed, and Saya smiled at his lightheartedness.

"'Course, probably easier since the missus isn't nagging the daylights out of me," he continued, accepting the coat the stewardess returned to him once the plane stopped moving. Saya received her own jacket as he stood up to adjust the coat over his slightly heavy frame. The crowd of the plane was already beginning to file out.

"Well, little miss, it sure was nice having your company." He turned to shake her hand after reaching above them to grab a miniature suitcase. He clasped her petite fingers with both hands and smiled warmly at her. "Where did you say you were going?"

"Albany," she responded happily. His sincerity touched her. "I'm waiting for the new semester to start up in Vermont."

"Well, I'll be up in Vermont myself come January." He reached into his back pocket and handed her a card. "I'm sure the missus would love for you to stop by and say hello. Our own children passed, as I said. Look us up if you get the chance."

"I'll do that," she replied merrily as they stepped through the exiting gate of the terminal. She felt the card burning in her hand, and made a mental note to destroy the unassuming paper as soon as she could. People, innocent, well-meaning people, should never be traced through their contact with her. She would never recall the name James Caulfield ever again after he said goodbye.

"I'll be meeting an associate of mine through this gate here," he pointed to his left with his thumb. "I fly into here all the time. You're gonna want to go that way to baggage claim. Nicholson, right? I'll remember that." He patted her on the back towards the direction she needed to go.

"Take care now!" he called to her as he disappeared into a crown of ordinary, busy people. Saya waved to her new friend and although his memory still lingered slightly in her head, his presence was gone forever. As she turned around, another presence caught her attention.

Saya felt like she was running, even though her mind recognized that she was walking much slower that the people around her. The air in the corridors of the airport was still, apart from the breathing of those around her, but she felt like a blast of cold air was shooting at her with every step she took towards the 'baggage claim' sign hanging from the glass ceiling.

Something inside of her began to pound, and suddenly it was an unrecognizable piece of her heart willing her to go forward. Saya tried to convince herself that it was the will to survive that pushed her towards him, that it was the fact that he was her last option for safety that made her long to see his beautiful face, and that it was not the distant memory of his loving embrace that left her heart racing.

_Show me a tomorrow where we are not together, _she repeated to herself. She was almost out of breath, even walking like a snail to her destination.

_Show me tomorrow..._ Why, oh why, was the chiropteran heart she felt beating hundreds of feet away so appealing?

_Show me..._

_Show me..._

Saya was at the top of a large escalator now--the entrance to a giant hall where the windows showed out-of-place bright afternoon sunshine. She felt his breathing before she saw him, though he stuck out like a sore thumb. His blonde waves cast a glare from the sun, and his posh clothes made every woman in the room do a double-take. He was facing the other direction towards another terminal, but as soon as she exhaled her held breath, his darling face met her eyes, and he beamed, and lifted the hand he'd always wanted her to accept to get her attention.

_Show me a tomorrow..._

_Show me..._

She smiled back and answered his wave with one her own.

A part of her she didn't hear answered—

_Found it._

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: I've figured out I get an average of one review per chapter. That wouldn't be so depressing if I had, say, 100 chapters...even 15 chapters...10 chapters! But I don't...YET.

Sooo my goal—10 reviews. I really appreciate you readers and would love to know what you think, or what you would like to see more of! :D


	7. Come with Me part 1

A/N: Well, everyone, here's the newest chapter of Savior's Song—just in time for Christmas! I've decided to add a subtitle to every chapter from now on. Both the chapter title and subtitle are direct quotes from the chapter. I hope you'll enjoy this next installment. I worked really hard on it!

--

Chapter 7: Come with me (part 1)

-- Continuez à sourire--

_There'll come a time it'll all make sense_

_And you won't know, but it'll show inside, deep inside_

_Come with me, close your eyes_

_Hold my hand, it'll be alright_

_Don't be scared, don't be shy_

_Lift your head it's gonna be alright_

_(Phil Collins)_

--

He took a few paces towards her as she stepped onto the stationary walkway. However, the young blonde kept enough distance between them to make it unclear to those around him who he was waiting for. She walked through the little crowd with a friendly smile that matched his.

"Hello, darling." Solomon's voice rang long-dormant bells in her head. As soon as she reached him, he slid his arm around her shoulders and led her to the wall he'd been standing against. To think she'd actually been worried about the awkwardness of their 'first' meeting. For once, she felt relieved with his confidence and self-assuredness. She was a bit put off by his immediate display of affection toward her, but before she could gather her thoughts, Saya realized he wasn't meeting her gaze. Solomon was standing casually in front of her, glancing off to the right.

"You're going to be cold," he said suddenly. His voice still sounded out of place in her ears. Maybe it was because she had expected a type of introduction, or maybe a more formal greeting. Solomon was just suddenly... there, standing before her as if they really were the old friends they were pretending to be.

"Here," he continued, snatching a coat off of a little railing she hadn't noticed. "I brought you an extra coat, just in case. It's going to be a brutal winter this year." His words were almost rushed, but he was smiling.

He walked her over a few steps to a more spacious area, where he slipped the jacket gracefully over the one she already had on. Solomon seemed oblivious to the wide-eyed stupor his touch left her in, and Saya noticed that he didn't seem at all phased that she hadn't said a single word to him.

He gave a fleeting look over his shoulder, one that wouldn't have been seen by eyes any less sharp than a chiropteran queen's, and he shifted her body so that he could fasten the uppermost toggle of the stylish black coat, erasing any evidence of her previous ensemble, apart from her knees downward and her leather bag, which Solomon slid back onto her shoulder. A large crowd from another plane's arrival passed in front of them, and he led her farther away. Saya looked up at him just in time to be interrupted by a faint ringing from his coat pocket.

He flipped the phone open instantly after his eyes grazed the cover, and then turned towards the window.

"Yes." He sounded calm, but his eyes darted from his left to his right. He briefly offered Saya his arm before wrapping it around hers when she didn't respond fast enough.

"Well, thank you for telling me," his amiable voice continued peacefully as they walked quickly through the dispersing crowd. "Good bye." He clicked the phone shut and it disappeared inside his coat. He smiled down at her quickly and said as they moved,

"Are we all ready, honey?" His pace quickened again, and he maneuvered them flawlessly through an entirely new crowd without looking. He stared at her surprised expression calmly, and Saya wondered why he didn't seem at all concerned with her obvious shock.

He smiled. "Good," he answered his own question.

She snapped out of it when she noticed he was pulling her away from the baggage claim. Saya tried to tug out of his grasp until there was a gap in the rush that allowed him to relent and drift towards a relatively secluded bench.

"Solomon," she started, and her tongue relished in the feel of the unfamiliar name. "We forgot my bags." Something in his eyes stirred when she said his name, but he looked relieved at her concerns, and exhaled.

"Oh, I already got them, dear. Let's go." He reached for her hand, but she looked at him crossly.

"No, my plane just arrived..." Saya trailed off as his aquamarine eyes moved from her to a group of three security guards passing by.

"Yes, yes, I know, my sweet." He looked almost pleadingly at her confused face. "Now let's _go_."

He grabbed her hand and jerked her forward with a small jolt. He was just tall enough that his arm could drape comfortably and naturally over her shoulders, and she was sure that it looked very normal to the naked eye. None of the other people around them could feel just how securely his arm was fastened around her.

"Solo—" Saya tried to say his name after they walked a minute or two in silence, but he cleared his throat as soon as she finished the first syllable. He smiled down at her as they turned into another hallway full of arriving passengers.

"Yes, dearest?" His eyes bore into her and for the first time his smile seemed a little forced. Staring at him and picturing his name in her head, she realized that he hadn't said her name (fake, real, or otherwise) at all. She gave it a second or two to sink in, before returning his smile with one of her own.

"Oh, nothing, _honey_," she said as sweetly as she could through her revelation.

Solomon wasn't an idiot. He knew her fake name and the relationship they were supposed to maintain. But the way he was moving, and the way he was talking, and the way that the airport security guards almost seemed to pool together at all of the exits he led her to, indicated that indeed, Solomon was well aware of the plan.

Perhaps he was not the only one.

"Oui, bien, continuez à sourire maintenant," he hummed though clenched teeth. _**Yes, good, just keep**_ _**smiling**_. He was speaking French now, instead of the more recognizable English. He could probably feel her heart racing as they approached the crowd gathering at the exits, and rubbed her shoulders comfortingly.

A steady line was forming to get outside. There were enough beautiful glass doors to make each line fairly short, but there were two intimidating policemen guarding each door, inspecting each person before letting them pass through.

"Continuez à sourire, ma chére, continuez à sourire." Solomon chanted as they approached. _**Keep smiling, my dear, keep smiling**_. The beautiful French words he spoke sounded too pretty given the situation. He said them so low that even if they weren't muffled by his smile, no one else would have heard them. Saya was about to reach into her bag when Solomon's hand clamped over hers, and he seamlessly shifted her bag from her shoulder to his. She saw his hand disappear into the bag for a moment, and then he gently patted it shut again.

"We've gotten word that an extremely important piece of luggage was stolen from baggage claim about an hour ago, folks." A third security guard appeared by their door and explained to the people around them. "We're going to have to check your baggage as you leave to make sure you didn't take it by mistake."

"Move along, ma'am," the first of the two heftiest security guards blocking the door commanded to the woman just before them. At first Saya felt relief that Solomon had stopped her from retrieving her luggage, but the hairs on her neck rose as she remembered the incriminating documents Mao had kindly prepared for her resting soundly in the handbag Solomon now carried.

They stopped short in front of the door, and the guards glared at them suspiciously. To Saya's horror, Solomon coolly handed her bag over to the first man, who began rifling through it thoroughly. The taller, second guard took an interest in the beautiful queen before him.

"No luggage, miss?" he asked innocently. His gentle tone didn't match the scowl covering his face. Before Saya could answer, Solomon's arm wrapped protectively around her waist.

"I'm afraid my wife only speaks French," he said calmly in perfect, unaccented English. His voice was smooth and persuasive enough to charm a snake. He tilted his head and peered down at Saya, who tried her best to look naively puzzled and not taken aback. Solomon repeated the portly guard's sentence in French for her.

"Il a demandé si tu as de bagage, Jaqueline."

'_**He asked if you have any luggage, Jacqueline.'**_

She forced her body and mouth to comply, and she attempted to make her reply as indignant and obvious as possible.

"Non, je n'ai pas besoin de bagage. Il ne peut pas voir que je n'a pas n'importe quel?"

'_**No, I don't need any luggage. Can't he see I don't have any?'**_

"Oui, oui, c'est simplement la procédure."

'_**Yes, yes, it's just procedure.'**_

Solomon turned towards the men almost apologetically, and rolled his eyes at his lovely 'wife.' Saya saw the first guard still searching her bag, and hoped against hope he would somehow overlook all of the secrets inside.

"We just purchased a house up in Maine." Solomon was telling some story to the guards now. "We drove there to set up, and decided that flying back down would be a much easier way to collect everything we couldn't fit the first time."

"Ma voiture," Saya pouted. '_**My car**_.' She tugged on the back of Solomon's coat when an uncomfortable silence started, and improvised. "Nous devons obtenir ma voiture, parce que vous avez voulu conduire la première fois. Pourquoi attendons-nous si longtemps?" If either of the intimidating men in front of her happened to know French then that would certainly help the scene move along.

'_**We have to get my car, because you insisted on driving the first time. Why is it taking so long?'**_

"We needed to get her car, too," he explained to them, shrugging halfheartedly in an attempt to play up any marital disputes they could relate to. "Ugly old thing can barely run, but she just has to have it."

The two guards seemed convinced at their little show, and the first guard actually smiled and twisted his head so that it was bent towards Saya. He handed Solomon the bag, to Saya's amazement.

"God knows you won't ever hear the end of it if you don't go fetch it for her." He laughed, and the taller joined in. Solomon chuckled and added an "Amen, brother."

"Just give us some ID and you'll be off," the second added, still chortling and smiling condescendingly at the deadly queen, who sighed with a defeated grin and shrugged at him. Their childish laughter provided her with a few seconds to calm her frantic heart. How exactly would they get past them now? Saya couldn't show them her fake I.D. now that she was supposed to be _French_, of all things. Would they just charge through? The two chiropterans were fast enough, and by the time the guards realized they'd made a break for it, Solomon and Saya would be out of sight forever.

She looked to Solomon to see if he'd come to the same conclusion, but as she lifted her head up for his confirmation, she noticed that he was holding out two IDs and two passports for the guards to inspect, and the sun glaring off of the holographic letters allowed her to see they belonged to Albert and Jacqueline Parson.

However, it wasn't the glare of the passports that caught her attention; it was the sparkle that came off of the shiny golden wedding band adorning his left hand as he accepted the papers back from them.

It hadn't been there fifteen minutes ago, had it?

"All clear, sir." The shorter guard nodded to them, and actually patted Solomon on the back. "You all stay out of trouble, you hear?" he added to Saya, even though she supposedly couldn't understand him. Her heart was racing as they stepped over the nearest threshold to freedom. They laughed as they walked through the glass doors and into the chilly sunlight.

"Wave to them," he instructed through his grin as they strode away quickly. She smiled over her shoulder and gestured to them before Solomon's firm pull on her hand became too much to refuse.

"Good, that was good," he said quickly, and his grip once again left her hand in favor of her arm. He had reverted back to English. "Now come with me, only a little further."

The sun was bright despite it being late afternoon, and its rays contrasted harshly to the cold breeze rustling the leaves around her. She was walking with a quick, steady pace to match his stride, and Saya could barely remember the past twenty-four hours at all. The last quarter hour and the nervousness leading up to it completely blew her mind, and her thoughts were focused on not tripping as he pulled her forward.

His smile seemed to flicker slightly as they got closer to what she assumed was his destination. She expected him to pull out a key ring or something to unlock the car before they arrived, but Solomon just moved his hand from her arm and onto the small of her back to direct her through a row of parked cars, and opened the passenger door of a car sitting the second row over.

Her body moved willingly with him as he grabbed her bag and pushed her into the car so quickly that she couldn't register its color. Her mind perceived the pounding of his heart, and recognized the burst of adrenaline the situation gave them both, but her body didn't seem to comprehend her mind's confusion, and felt completely at ease with him reaching over her so intimately that his hair briefly tickled her face, and he buckled her seatbelt in place before getting into the car hastily himself.

Saya wanted them to fly off immediately—to take off instantly and literally leave dust clouds in their midst. The atmosphere made his car's normal speed almost unbearable, and the tension of their almost-discovery made the anxiety tangible. Solomon turned into the first of what looked like three lanes leading to the still far away airport exit gate, and they sat driving at an agonizingly conventional pace for what seemed like forever. Finally Solomon sped up abruptly, practically throwing money at the bored looking woman in the tollbooth.

"The airport's going to go into lockdown in about five minutes," he said as they turned out of the last exit leading to the highway. He was glaring ahead, and his mouth was a hard line as he swerved through traffic.

"What...? How did this happen?" She looked at him, and he didn't glance back at her. He placed his hand over his mouth and took a deep breath when they stopped at a red light.

"I don't know," Solomon sighed and shook his head. "Something must have been leaked." He stared at her even though they were in motion again.

"Saya, how did you know to take a different plane?" His voice was strained and she could tell that he was pushing the speed limit as far as he could without getting pulled over. The way his voice vibrated when he said her name sent chills down her spine that matched the ones that his question gave her.

She looked at him skeptically. "What are you talking about?"

The car jerked as he turned onto a more secluded street, where he sped up significantly. Solomon was staring at her incredulously as they accelerated past residential homes.

"You mean you didn't even _know_? Saya, the plane you were supposed to be on never landed! It was supposed to get here by three-thirty. I thought you were just late getting off, but your luggage didn't come either. When I checked the arrivals board, it said that it wasn't coming at all! I was about to go and track the plane down myself, but then I saw you, and I knew that you must have taken another flight..." He trailed off, and was obviously waiting for her to jump in and explain her actions, but she just stared blankly at him.

"But, I _didn't_ take another flight; not that I know of." She was too surprised to sound very persuasive, even though she knew she was right. Saya hadn't changed a single thing in their plan.

"But you _did_, Saya, you had to! Your plane was supposed to be from Tokyo, but all of the flights coming in from Japan were halted. Your bags must have been on the right flight, but you weren't!" Solomon was looking desperate. She stared at his anxious face and tried to remember everything that happened before her departure.

Then she remembered something of interest.

"There was something," she started. He had put his eyes back on the road, but as soon as she spoke, he looked at her again. He waited for her to continue.

"When I went to board, the woman working at the desk told me I was waiting for the wrong plane. I double-checked the ticket, but she insisted I was in the wrong place. She was very friendly, and she walked me over to the right gate just as the plane was about to take off. I figured she had to be right, because this one was set to go to New York, too." She felt self-conscious explaining it to him. It seemed like such a simple little mix-up at the time. Saya had no idea that the woman's misunderstanding had meant so much until now.

Solomon just gaped at her, and she waited for him to say something serious or novel or crucial. However, he actually coughed a laugh and smiled, astounded.

"I think," he said, leaning back in his seat. "That you were saved by a partially blind, scatterbrained stewardess." He started to chuckle, and Saya couldn't help but join in at the absolute improbability of it. Somehow, God had sent them an angel in an attendant's uniform. And it hadn't been bad at all. The hardest part was leaving the airport after it was all over. The plane ride itself had even been pretty pleasant; she was given a late dinner, breakfast, and lunch, it was comfortable, and she'd even met a companion.

_A companion..._

"Solomon," she whispered breathlessly, her body stiff and rigid. "Solomon, there was a man on the plane. I told him who I was. He knows where I'm going to be. If he didn't get out before the lockdown..." Saya couldn't finish the sentence, because she was picturing the businessman's kind smile and lighthearted comments in her head. Could the sweet James Caulfield be the death of them?

Solomon screeched to a halt, and his blonde waves flung ahead of him. Saya noticed for the first time that the road they were driving had turned into a country one, and was very secluded. He turned towards her slowly, but she could feel his heart beating frantically.

"You did," he confirmed more to himself then to her. His hand was placed on the back of her chair as he turned his body towards her. "You did. That's fine, don't worry. What was his name?" The last part was very severe, though he tried to sound calm.

"It was... Caulfield," Saya said slowly. His close proximity and his expectant eyes made it hard to think quickly. "He gave me his card. Here." As she started to reach for her back pocket, Solomon clicked her seatbelt open, and she twisted her body towards him when she pulled it out.

He took the card from her, his eyes already astonished. "James Caulfield..." he murmured. "Human resources, Provincetown, Massachusetts." He stared at the business card for a few moments.

"Solomon, I'm so sorry," Saya began. How could she have been so stupid? Talking to a stranger like that. Something about him had just seemed so warm and friendly. She may as well have given him a death sentence. If he didn't make it out before the airport locked down, then he was most likely already in the custody of the NYPD, awaiting the arrival of whatever government department handled the eradication of chiropterans. They would never believe he was just a simple outsider that got wrapped up in this. They wouldn't.

Solomon was still staring intently at the card. She almost placed her hand on his arm. "Solomon..."

"Oh, no, no, no. Don't be sorry." He smiled, but still kept his eyes on the card. "He didn't come out with you, so he must have been taking an additional trip; you were just about the last one out. They probably wouldn't have stopped him on a layover flight. There was a plane leaving for Massachusetts about ten minutes after yours landed. He's probably flying home to Provincetown as we speak." He slid the card into his pocket. "I'm positive we have nothing to worry about, but I'll look him up when we get to my apartment, just to be sure." He ran his hand through his hair and grinned at her.

"I'm not sure about you, but I just about had a heart attack." He laughed and she joined in, relieved.

And then suddenly something seemed different. Now that there wasn't a tremendous threat breathing down their necks, she actually had the common sense to really look at him. He noticed the change, too, and smiled peacefully back at her. Part of her longed to reach out and touch his face. It had seemed so far away only a week ago, when she'd seen his visage in the pleats of her dress and his words in her head. Solomon shifted his weight so that he was directly facing her.

"You look so different," he commented, "with your hair like that." She touched her now flattened ends between her fingers at his observation. "It looks lovely," he finished.

"Oh, thank you," she almost stuttered in response. "Haji thought it made me look older."

He just smiled at the mention of the man who'd beat him out for Saya's love. She regretted her extended reply immediately. He didn't seem at all disheartened, but she could have sworn she saw him give a passing glance at her engagement ring, which was for some reason burning through her finger.

"He was right. You're absolutely stunning." She tried not to blush at his compliment. A car drove past them and seemed to snap them both out of it.

"Now then," he said with renewed energy and enthusiasm. "Albany is about three hours upstate. We'll be there at around eight. You must be tired; Japan is ahead half a day isn't it?" He pulled back onto the road and a pink and yellow sunset surrounded them.

"Yeah, it is. I could barely sleep on the plane at all. It feels like I've been up for days." She laughed a little and appreciated his small talk.

"Yes, I've heard jet-lag is very difficult to deal with."

He'd 'heard'? She turned to Solomon, confused. "I thought you used to travel all of the time."

He turned his head to smile at her before looking back to the road.

"Well," his voice was amused. "Jet-lag isn't really a problem when you don't need to sleep." He turned his head towards her shocked face again with a sly grin.

Saya was taken aback when he suddenly started laughing. Although she realized it really was her fault for not remembering his... metabolic restrictions, she thought it particularly unfair and rude for him to laugh at her lapse of judgment. After all, she hadn't seen the man in over thirty years...

"I'm sorry," he chuckled and shook his head. "I shouldn't be laughing at that. It's just, the look on your face was so priceless. I had forgotten how adorable you look when you're surprised." She had to smile at his almost-apology, and her now rapidly retreating common-sense yelled at her for appreciating his flattery. Its voice fell on deaf ears.

Had it really been thirty years? Honestly? So many things had happened since she'd woken up with George and Kai and Riku all those decades ago. Astronauts trekking on the moon and surrounding planets was no longer front page news, cars seemed to move faster and ride smoother, and people... The people just continued growing and maturing, but they seemed to grow so much faster now; instead of her steadily watching them age and develop alongside her, humans were suddenly years and years older in the blink of an eye.

"But you haven't changed," she finished her train of thought aloud. Solomon's mannerisms were still the same, his smile, his style. Saya was somehow very attune to it now. When everything was said and done, and there were no alliances that blocked their perception of one another, she felt very at ease with him. Perhaps they had changed after all, though. They were not the crimson queen and a renegade chevalier; they were just two people, driving along New York's rural roads as the sun gave one last wink into the darkened sky, enjoying each others company.

"No," he smiled at her, but his face looked significantly sadder when his eyes returned to the road. "I haven't changed.

"Saya," he continued after a moment, turning his headlights on with a small click from the steering wheel. "You look like you haven't slept for a week. It's going to be a couple more hours. You should sleep. I'll be turning onto the main road again soon. I find it's much more suspicious to be the only car on this road, rather than one in thousands along the highway."

"I suppose that's true," she replied thoughtfully. The roads seemed eerie now that sun had gone down.

"Unless you want to stop and eat before we get back," Solomon remarked. He looked pensive. "I would have thought that the flight provided enough meals, but with the way those flights went today..."

"Oh, I'm really not hungry at all," she cut in, a little nervous. The last thing Saya wanted now was to sit with Solomon at a restaurant while she stuffed her face, with him sitting politely and awkwardly across from her. She didn't want to ruin whatever peace they'd established with one another while driving around making small talk, and, in truth, for the first time she could remember, she really wasn't hungry.

"Then rest. Please." He pressed another button on the wheel in front of him, and her seat reclined just enough to make her eyes feel droopy. "There is a nice café taking up a majority of the ground floor of my apartment building. If you're hungry then, we can go, hmm?" She nodded at his suggestion. Her body melted into the chair, but her mind continued to stay perfectly aware.

"Solomon," Saya started. "What are we going to do now? They all know who I'm supposed to be."

He seemed to dislike the serious turn of the discussion as much as she did, but his face remained lighthearted.

"Wrong," he said quaintly. "They know who you _were_. And they'll be busy trying to find one 'Michi Nicholson' all around the country, since evidence shows that you weren't on your original plane, and that you didn't arrive in New York. Michi quite literally disappeared off the face of the planet."

"But they have all of my bags," she countered.

"But they don't have _you_." he strained. "And unless they plan on tracking you by the style of clothes you wear, then I'm pretty sure they're out of luck.

"Of course, if you're worried about your clothes," Solomon continued thoughtfully after a moment. "This is New York, Saya; you won't have any trouble finding something to wear. Trust me." He looked at her, and the lights from passing stores and windows reflected off of his flawless skin. He didn't seem convinced at her sleepy attempt to look pacified.

"If it makes you feel any better, I wasn't going to let you use that name after you touched down anyway." His eyes appeared to be rolling at the plan rather than her reaction. "Honestly, having you keep the same name after you've been entered in the system? God forbid you keep it and they realize you took that other flight. All they would have to do was check their records to find all of your new information and track you down.

"So don't worry about it, Saya, please." He rested a hand behind her seat when he backed up slightly to turn into a faster lane, and kept it there even when he sped up. "I have everything under control."

She didn't know why she completely trusted him or why her heart felt comforted by his hand being inches away. In fact, she was almost excited; things would go smoothly from here on out, she was sure. Saya was overcome with exhaustion, but also with joy, because the name she'd used was up in the air somewhere, and the people threatening her species' existence were completely lost, and the one trump they'd had to use against her, her luggage and plane ticket, may as well be a map for a wild goose chase.

_And it's not as if there was anything important in those bags anyway_, Saya thought, her mind relatively clear compared to her wilting body. _No, of course not. _She would have remembered.

"So tell me, Mr. Rosdale…" she said, her face resting on the seat so that it was turned towards him. "Or should I say Mr. Parson? What's the story?"

"Well," he started. He touched his face with the hand from behind her as though he were trying to find where to begin. As he began speaking again, he returned it to her headrest.

"First things first, I suppose. You're Nicole Georges, you are twenty-six, and you're from France. Technically, you're a quarter Japanese, from your father's side. Your parents divorced when you were four, and you spent a lot of time traveling between California and France before you decided to go to England to study business. You obtained a bachelors degree in business administration." Saya just looked at him, surprised.

"You won't have to pull off a French accent; you've been speaking English perfectly for years," he said, misunderstanding her shock. "I just thought it would be easier saying that. Technically, you are French..." She smiled inwardly at his partial embarrassment, and tried to console him.

"No, it's not that," she explained. "I mean, in principle, I am French. But, do you really think I can pull off twenty-six?" She doubted it. Saya had thought twenty-one was a stretch when they had explained the plan to her. She'd been masquerading as a recent high-school graduate for the past few months, after all.

"I think the Red Shield greatly underestimated you," Solomon said casually. "If I had to guess your age right now, I'd say at least twenty-four. Personally, I believe the only reason you ever passed as a high school student in the first place was because they hacked your hair off.

"You pulled it off swimmingly, of course, but when you let it grow out, I swear you looked about five years older." He said it like it was completely obvious, and she had to admit, if anyone was an expert of age, it was Solomon. Apparently, he'd been living among humans for years, and they never seemed to notice that his handsome face never aged a day. However, she was curious now; how old was he pretending to be?

How old was he really?

"But where was I?" he asked himself, pulling her back to the conversation. "Oh, that's right. You won't have to worry; all of the normal people working in the building know you're coming. I have all of your IDs and paperwork all set back at home."

"I must be awfully important," she teased hazily, yawning, "for you to tell everyone about me."

"Well, considering we've been dating for a little over a year and a half, I thought it was about time you moved in with me." He looked at her apologetically when she jerked up. If she'd been drinking something, it would have spit out of her mouth. "I really am terribly sorry about that, but there honestly wasn't any other plausible excuse for an attractive young woman moving into my apartment. If I'd had children, I would have said you were my au pair… But regardless, I hope you don't think it too presumptuous of me."

"Umm, no, it just surprised me is all," she assured. She tried to think about it rationally. What had the plan been anyway? Would people have really bought that a rich, attractive, single man would invite a single lady-friend to stay with him for months on end without thinking there must be something going on behind closed doors? And _Saya_ wasn't single—no, of course not; but Michi was, presumably-- None of Mao's papers had given her any way to explain the ring adorning her hand. And she only assumed Solomon was single, but perhaps that was presumptuous for _her_ to have assumed.

In any case, Albert Parson, or Solomon Rosdale, who was really Solomon Goldsmith, wasn't single. He was apparently getting very serious with Nicole Georges, who was really Saya Otonashi, who was on the run from the US government for her presumed involvement with the Middle-Eastern Corpse Corps, who were at present being terminated by her real-life chevalier and fiancé.

"Are you confused about anything?" He practically sang it to her. "I think that covers the basics." He turned onto another speedy highway, and the ride was smooth and even. Saya felt her body urging her to accept the gentle lull of the car gliding down the glistening streets.

"You know," he said off-handedly as she nestled into her coat. "There are some good things that go along with not sleeping." His voice was like a music box, soft and graceful.

"Oh?" Her reply was groggy, and her curious mind made it a little easier to stay awake.

"I absolutely adore music," he began wistfully. "It's evolved through time even though I've stayed the same. I could write a thousand volumes on it about the early 1900s alone. I could listen to music for twenty-four hours a day if I wanted to. Modern music hasn't been very good, though; I haven't cared for it at all. Music used to mean something. It used to be about exploration and difference and beauty, but recently it's all sounded the same."

"You have favorites, then?" Saya wondered aloud to him. Her eyes were closed, and she could make out the radiant city lights behind her eyelids.

"Yes, I do." Solomon sounded genuinely pleased that she asked. She waited for him to continue, and he went on.

"I personally liked jazz, but soon the trend caught on and everyone just used it as an excuse to be wild and idiotic. Classical will always be a favorite, but swing was better; it was a bit of a bore, but at least you could dance to it. The fifties were alright, but it might as well have been the 1920s again, with the fads and the craziness. The sixties, though. The sixties were amazing. Have you heard of the Beatles? Oh, what am I saying? Of course you have."

She smiled and nodded sleepily. She had heard of them. She may have even listened to them once or twice. But she was only awake for a brief period every thirty years. Saya was completely dependent on her companions to keep her up to speed on the trends and fads and rages that developed while she slept. But she only knew enough to pull off humanity while she hunted down her sister from the shadows. She never bothered to have them elaborate on luxuries like fashion or music, and listening to Solomon chat casually about lavishness and human indulgences made her realize exactly what she'd been missing out on. Haji had promised to show her the world, but fate had intervened, and they ran out of time. Maybe it was her _other_ chevalier that would take up that responsibility. Maybe it was that other chevalier, whose hand snuck from behind her seat to rifle through the armrest compartment that divided their two seats, and whose smile melted the cold parts of her heart that her mind refused to recognize, that would bring her face to face with the world that he'd once said she belonged in.

"Would you like to hear some? It would probably help you fall asleep, though you can hardly keep your eyes open as it is." He said it with a small, peaceful laugh. Anticipating her agreement, he connected a shiny palm-sized MP3 player to the dashboard with a tiny cord. Any normal human would have found it almost impossible to find the little insert in the darkness, even with the assistance of the lights around them, but Solomon located it instantly without even looking, and his skilled hands scrolled though the screen with precision as he kept his eyes on the road. She nodded, despite already him knowing her answer.

Saya didn't remember the music beginning to play, and her mind didn't register the gentle thrumming of the bass from the speakers as it lulled her into gentle slumber. She did, however, recall when Solomon's heart pounded slightly faster after skipping through the first few retro songs.

_I give her all my love,_

_and that is all I do—_

Skip.

_She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah_

_well, I think—_

Skip.

_Love, love me do_

_You know that I love yo—_

Skip.

_Can't buy me lo—_

She vaguely remembered something hitting the cushions roughly in the backseat behind her, and she heard his melodic voice tersely mumble to himself,

"Well, that's enough music..."

A part of Saya remained partially conscious, and ignored the awkwardness of love songs playing that her human half would have shuddered at. Her body was resting, and it had lulled into slow, even breathing of slumber. However, something inside of her continued to be aware, and pulsed in perfect time with Solomon's gentle breaths. Saya was not even responsive to a little throbbing from the back of her mind, that warmed her head and pulsated down to her spine, where it dissipated and sent sparks flying. She slept through the ardent, uninvited feeling, and didn't feel her body shiver slightly as he moved his hand from behind her seat to turn down the heater in the suddenly blazing car. They both wore coats, but her body didn't register the heat until now.

As the air began to pour out softly, it blew her hair so gently that it just barley tickled her face. She stirred, and a warm hand brushed her face and tucked her loose tendrils behind her ear.

For the next few hours, Saya dreamt of rainbow colored roses.

--

"Saya..." A pause.

"Saya..." Another pause, then a gentle nudge. She opened her eyes to find Solomon smiling at her, slightly concerned, as though he were trying to smoothly awaken a newborn child.

"We'll be there in about five minutes," he said joyfully. The red queen could almost feel the anticipation emanating from his person, though he was obviously trying to make it seem very normal. She sat up, suddenly very awake, and he shifted her seat for her with a flick of his finger on the steering wheel.

"How was your sleep?" He asked pleasantly. His constant conversation kept idle thoughts out of her head, and again, it was appreciated.

"It was fast," Saya responded, yawning. She felt a little dizzy, like her head was swimming, but she was grateful that the night sky didn't seem too out of place when she looked out the window. "But nice. I'm still a little tired, though."

"Ah, well, that's understandable," Solomon stated attentively. "We actually made good time; there was hardly any traffic." His arm was slung around her seat again, or rather, still, and he turned into a street full of impossibly high buildings and expensive-looking structures and shops. The roads they'd been traveling on had all been littered by sparkling lights, but the ones adorning this neighborhood were absolutely spectacular. They shimmered and glowed discreetly, but their sheer elegance amazed her, and she was captivated by the way the buildings reflected little rainbows against the darkened sky and how the windows lit up like a checkerboard up its sides. Saya leaned towards the car's window, and pressed her cheek against the cool glass as she stared upwards.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" He asked. It sounded like he was facing her, but when she turned to answer him, his handsome face was turned towards the road, the glimmer reflecting magnificently off of his light eyes.

"Yes, it is," she agreed, following his gaze to a fantastic building coming up on their right. Solomon slowed down, pulling under an enormous, lighted canopy covering the front doors and the driveway. Even in the partial darkness, she could tell the apartments were a light color, probably beige or cream, or even white. It had to be at least thirty stories tall. "You live here?"

"Yes," he confirmed happily. He sounded a little amused by her awe. He turned the car seamlessly to turn into the driveway, and as he did so, Saya got a glimpse of his left hand, which was now ring-less. She looked at her own engagement ring subtly, and while it twinkled happily back at her, she was reminded that neither the old plan, nor the new plan, elaborated on exactly how to explain the jewelry. Solomon noticed her attention as he pulled to a stop.

"Are we engaged?" He asked freely, finding no shame at staring right at her ring. "We could pretend to be, if that would be easier for you." Solomon looked at her, patiently waiting for a response. His smile was as serene and bright as ever, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"No, it's alright," Saya answered. She tried to make it sound as unimportant as it should have been. "I'll just take it off for now." Saya slipped her ring into the pocket of her coat, removing it with only her left thumb, not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to it. She was both proud and disappointed with herself for inserting 'for now' at the end, an addition that she was sure Solomon noticed.

"Alright," he said. He sounded authentically happy with her response, and he opened his door just as a man rushed over to help him out. Solomon gracefully stepped out onto the driveway while another man opened her door and offered his hand to help her out. She accepted it, out of sheer instinct, and adjusted the bag on her shoulder as she thanked him.

Solomon walked over to her after slipping both ushers an amount that even a queen's eyes couldn't catch. His right arm glided around her waist and his hand rested rather casually on her hip. She reached her arm around him and gripped the back of his coat, and he turned slightly towards the valets, who were almost definitely conversing about Solomon's stunning new companion, and threw the closer of the two the keys.

"Same spot as always, sir?" He shouted eagerly, presuming (correctly) that good work was rewarded well by Mr. Rosdale. He sounded younger than he looked, and smiled at them.

"You know it, Michael," Solomon smiled back, his tone lighthearted but affirmative towards the young man. She was actually surprised to see that his car was white. He turned back towards Saya, and smiled at her as they walked to the doorman, who was waiting expectantly for the blonde to come over to him.

"Ray!" Solomon called, walking towards the waiting man with Saya's waist in tow. The man was dressed in his uniform, which consisted on mostly on a tailored red tailcoat with golden buttons and trim and black pants with accompanying red and gold lines down the side seems. He was an older, sturdy gentleman, and Saya guessed that under his matching cap that he had already begun to go grey.

"This is Nicole. Nicole, this is Ray," Solomon introduced. Ray shook her hand warmly and smiled kindly at her. He tossed Solomon a rough, playful grin.

"What's a smart, young thing like you doin' with the likes of him, eh?" He joked and winked at her. "Good to finally meet you, Nikki. You need anything, you just give me holler." Saya knew instantly why the hotel hired a man like Ray. His outwardly friendly attitude would be an attribute to any company. He reminded her a little of her late father, George.

"Thank you," she replied with a wide smile. Solomon stepped just a little bit towards the door, and Ray opened it immediately, his slight wrinkles emphasizing his grin at the two.

"You have a good night, Mr. Rosdale. You too, miss Nikki." Although it wasn't anything like her real name, Saya was warming up to Solomon's choice, especially now that she'd acquired a new nickname.

"He was really nice," She commented once they'd gotten far enough from the door so that he couldn't overhear them. The inside of the building was very subtly extraordinary, with its few details being very ornate. Every doorway and hall on the first floor had an arch with complicated carvings and designs, and the fountain in the middle of the lobby extended all the way up to the second story ceiling, with a thick vine stretching upwards and water flowing from the top, pooling in the little flower buds and leaved that branched out as it poured down.

"Yes, Ray is one of a kind, definitely," Solomon agreed, nodding. The lobby was almost empty, though she saw him nod and smile to some the few people walking by. He led her over to an elevator on the far side of the room, past a café that was, indeed, very spacious. It smelled delicious, and it felt like she was really breathing for the first time in ages when it touched her nose.

"Be careful, though," he laughed. "He's a Yankees fan. Are you hungry?" He must have seen her head follow the smell.

"Not really," Saya answered, shaking her head as they slowed down in front of it. She wasn't lying. She didn't feel the least bit hungry, only a little tired and weak from the trip.

"Well, let's order you something when we get upstairs. I'll show you all of those papers and we'll get settled." Solomon sounded so at peace speaking about it in public, and she trusted his indiscretion.

"Over here," he continued, guiding her into an elevator almost hidden on the other side of the café. "This one can go straight up. It's the only one without an operator inside." He pressed the door close button and a few others that she didn't catch, and she saw their reflection in the shining door as the closed. She looked up at him, and felt her eyes beginning to droop. Obviously, three hours of sleep hadn't been nearly enough.

"Where is your apartment?" She asked. She didn't bother wondering why her she wasn't getting nervous.

"Up," he responded joyfully. Saya waited a moment for him to continue. He added, "All the way up. Thirty-fourth floor."

"Ahh," Saya understood. Solomon was...Solomon. He may have changed where he lived, but he'd never change the _way_ he lived. He had a different air of elegance about him that Haji did, and she had a feeling that the posh white car they'd been driving in only minutes ago wasn't the only vehicle he possessed, not even close.

It wasn't as though it bothered her—no, it just perplexed her. She'd never met anyone like him. He was so confident and graceful and sure. She felt so safe with him next to her, and she didn't even notice that his arm was still positioned tenderly around her waist, placing her so close to him that she could feel his chest rise and fall with his slow, rhythmic, breaths.

She didn't give his touch a second thought because her mind refused to register it as something abnormal. It felt so...natural.

"Here we are," Solomon sounded like a waiter leading a guest towards their table, or a chef presenting his dish to the expectant company. The elevator made a happy ping, and the doors slid open, revealing a long, stylishly carpeted hallway, that had only a few doors adorning the walls of its passage.

"It's the only apartment up here," he informed her, his voice resonating like church bells off of the walls. It looked like there were only a few empty rooms occupying the rest of the floor, and there were beautiful paintings hung over the carved walls. Saya stopped at one of them as Solomon took his hand away from her waist and dug it into the pocket of his coat, presumably looking for the key.

She didn't why she stopped to look at this particular painting; it wasn't next to his door or anything. It was placed on the wall opposite from the door, and a few feet down the hall from where Solomon was now standing. It wasn't even very good, yet her lovely burgundy eyes couldn't move from it. It was an insignificant looking manor house surrounded by flowers and a stream and a field of blooming wild flowers. It was one of those pictures that would be common in a doctor's waiting room or a middle-class family room. Very ordinary, indeed.

But why did it capture her attention so? Maybe it was because she had been expecting something more original to be ornamenting the expensive walls, or maybe it was because it stirred something faint and whispered inside of her memory. Regardless, before it could make any permanent indentation in her mind, Solomon's hand touched her shoulder.

"Are you all right?" His beautiful looked concerned, and she smiled at him in a comforting way.

"Yes, I'm fine,"

"Good," he said, and his pretty eyes reflected a tired-looking Saya. "Now," he took her arm smoothly, "come with me."

As he shut the door behind them, she looked around the spacious apartment in awe. She stood observing her surroundings and he took her coat, and her arms moved willingly with him. She heard him close the closet door, which was next to the front door, and then he was in front of her.

"This is the living room," he said pleasantly, waving his hand to the furnished room to her right. It had a couch, a fireplace, and even a large television that was mounted on the wall. Solomon led her (without touching her) away from the front hallway and living room towards the kitchen. It could have been cut out of a magazine. Every appliance (unused, most likely) was made of shining chrome, and the countertops were all polished wood. It had a bar that extended into the living room, and the bar stools matched the kitchen table and its chairs, which stood at the far end near a wall of thinly-curtained windows.

"This is the kitchen," he continued. Saya's gaze lingered on the vase of white roses and lilies gracing the table, and he stopped as she reached his side under the next doorway.

"That's the dining room in there, and that," he leaned his body and pointed to another doorway on the opposite side of the kitchen, "is where your room is. My room is on the other end of the hall, through there." He tilted his head towards the front door. The hallway must have gone front the front room all through the apartment. It was huge.

"That door leads outside to the balcony, and there's a staircase past the living room that leads to the veranda upstairs." Saya would have felt self-conscious giving a tour of such a grandeur place so casually, but, of course, he was at ease. She noticed that the door to the balcony was in almost the exact same place as it was the last time she'd..._visited_ him, right next to the kitchen table, but she tempted to ask to see the upstairs. She may have, if her body didn't seem to be falling out from under her.

"Saya," Solomon's voice called to her. He probably said something while she was staring off into space. "Saya!"

He caught her by the waist as her body began falling into the table. One minute she was leaning on her hand, the next, it was limp an as effective as supporting a cannonball with a piece of spaghetti. Solomon kept her in his arms until the haze vanished from her eyes and he saw dark red orbs staring at me.

"You...You look a though you're falling asleep." He sounded sad and a little horrified, just as he did when he said the very same statement thirty years ago. Saya was surprised that she remembered it so vividly. She tried to stand, but he didn't release her. Instead, he sat her gently in the chair closest to them. He still hadn't fully let go of her, and she knew what he was thinking. As she was about to reassure him that she wasn't hungry, again, he stood up and looked at her warmly.

"You're thirsty," he concluded. "And you're tired. Here." He pulled a pamphlet off of the top of the fridge and handed it to her. "This is a menu for the restaurant downstairs. Please look for something you'd enjoy. They've gotten quite used to me ordering; I'm only human after all." He laughed, and smiled at her a she took the menu from his elegant hands. "I'll go get us something to drink."

_Something to 'drink,' that would be nice, _Saya thought, sighing at the menu in front of her. All of the food sounded as though it would be very good, and she would have asked her blonde host what he preferred, except she remembered that just as he didn't sleep, he didn't eat, either.

_All of that food he must have ordered to pull off being human_, she thought. _What a waste..._

"Here you are," Solomon's lyrical voice interrupted her train of thought, and his extended hand held a wine glass. It wasn't tiny like a celebratory flute for champagne, but it was large, and filled over half way with—

'_I'll go get us something to drink.'_ Saya thought about it. Her eyes had once matched the crimson liquid that bobbed in the glass that she took from him, if only to be polite. The blood moved up and down. When he said he was getting them something to drink, surely he didn't mean literally?!

Her glass was lifted slightly, and Solomon took this as an invitation.

"Cheers," His voice rang along with the clinking of the glasses. She saw him move the glass to his lips, and she looked away.

Saya tried to resist—the first time her body felt the need to resist anything that day, but the smell drew her in. The way it looked so normal and fluid and shiny inside the glass urged her shaking hand to move slowly towards her mouth. Her mind was already made up to drink it, but her body still trembled at the thought.

"Saya." Solomon's hand covered hers on the glass's neck, and his other hand felt her shoulder. His teeth weren't stained red, even though the contents of his glass were almost empty. "My goodness, you really are shaken, aren't you? Well, it was terribly exciting day, after all.

"Here," He cooed, as though she was a frightened child. He knelt down and slipped his hand behind her head, and tilted it back a he guided the glass to her lips.

It shouldn't have tasted so plain. It was like air pouring down her throat. Saya had expected the taste of rust and the familiar 'pang' of copper that she spilled whenever she defeated an enemy. However, it tasted airy and light and smooth; it didn't even have the sweet, ancient flavor that mildly accompanied Haji's blood.

"There we go," Solomon's melodic voice would have been perfect for running a daycare center. He placed the glass gently on the table and slowly released Saya from his care. He stood up, and Saya noticed for the first time what he'd been wearing under his heavy coat. He looked so...informal. Black dress pants, and white buttoned shirt, and a navy blue, long-sleeved sweater.

Well, informal for Solomon, anyway. He wasn't even wearing a tie, and his top buttons her undone.

"We can take care of the paperwork later," He said firmly. He looked down at her sternly, but sympathetically. "You need rest. Now."

Saya looked at a clock placed high on the wall next to her. "But it's only eight-thirty."

"It's eight-thirty here, now. In Okinawa it's what," he stared at the ceiling, contemplating, "ten am? You've gone at least thirty hours without with out sleep. Your body will thank you in the morning. Now, come with me; I'll show you to your room."

Her mind wanted to push her body to stay awake, if only to see all of the papers he'd prepared, but his outstretched hand was so irresistible to her aching body that she took it, although warily. He didn't seem to think anything of it at all. Solomon's hand was so warm that holding it made Saya feel nervous, and her heart pounded a little hander when he continued to grasp it even after helping her to standing. His heartbeat remained regular and soft, and his face showed no emotion other than the composed joy that always rested on his gentle features. Something about the differences in their reactions embarrassed and annoyed her.

He led her through the kitchen to a hallway that opened between the stove and a set of cabinets, and there was lush carpeting that felt so soft compared to the hard tile of the other room. There were a few paintings on the wall, but Solomon opened one of only two doors along the hallway for her before she got a chance to see them.

It was at least twice as big as her bedroom in Okinawa. There was a giant bed (probably king size—queen at least) in the middle, its headboard lined up against the back wall, and Saya noticed the similarities it shared to the room she'd woken up in thirty years ago. She wasn't sure t if was intentional or not, as the bed placement was the only real likeness. The walls were a dark cream color, and there was a large dresser facing the bed from the opposite wall. She saw a wardrobe standing regally in the corner next to double doors she assumed led to a closet, and also saw another door leading into what looked like a separate little room. She sighed inwardly—a private powder room. At least she could take a shower in peace. Even at home she didn't have that luxury.

"Oh, here you go," Solomon said, and Saya looked up at him. She'd taken a few steps forward, and the young man still stood in the doorway, though he had her leather bag in his hand. He held it out to her, and she took it awkwardly. There was a moment of silence, until his sunny voice broke it.

"I'll let you get settled, then." His hand was on the door knob. "If you need anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask. My room is right down the hall to your right, and I'll be in the kitchen working for a while in case you need me." He smiled sincerely at her.

"A-Alright. Thank you." She was a little nervous about being left in the large room alone, but she was very, very grateful for his privacy.

"You're welcome," he said, smiling. He shut the door quietly.

Saya had planned on taking a shower, but she couldn't bring herself to do more than wash her face and pull her hair back into a ponytail. She was burdened for the first time that day by her lack of luggage when she realized that she couldn't actually change into something to wear to bed, but she decided that stripping down to her jeans and her white tank top was enough to get comfortable. Looking at the soft bed covered in white sheets, she came to the conclusion that even a suit of armor would be comfortable if she were laying on that. The red queen briefly considered undressing further, but thoroughly decided against it. What if there was fire...or something?

She folded up her clothes and placed them next to the coat that Solomon had placed on the dresser, and wondered why he didn't hang it up when he'd hung up his own coat up, before realizing that it held something very precious inside.

The ring felt like home as she cradled it in her cupped hands. She sat on the side of the bed, and let it sparkle under the light of the lamp on the bedside table. Saya placed it quickly onto the cold wood when she heard a soft knock on the door.

"Umm, come in," she said rather nervously. If she'd been listening, she would have heard his approach, and blamed her tenseness on surprise.

"I thought you might get cold," Solomon said apologetically, bowing his head slightly so his flaxen hair ticked his nose. "I brought you an extra blanket." When Saya didn't stand to greet him, he walked over to her sitting body, and placed the blanket on the edge of the bed.

They stared at each other a moment, and even though the room was lit well, the moonlight still found a way to sneak in and cast flattering shadows onto his face. Saya reached for his arm as he straightened from bending towards the bed, and held him there tenderly.

"Solomon, thank you." Her eyebrows were raised almost remorsefully, but she smiled thankfully up at him.

"You are so very welcome, Saya." His voice was velvet as he stood up, and Saya could have sworn she felt his hand give her fingers a light squeeze as she let her arm fall. He stared at her for a moment in the doorway, smiling, and then turned off the main ceiling fixture, leaving only the lamp next to her on.

"Good night." He shut the door.

The glistening sparkle of her engagement ring caught her attention, and that night, as she snuggled into the unfamiliar bed, surrounded by unfamiliar smells and sounds, Saya felt the lovely, familiar feel of the ring on her left hand, and she slumbered peacefully.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: Well there you go! Chapter 7 completed! I'm looking forward to writing chapter 8, so I hope you stay tuned to read it! Please, please, please review! I am getting a little disheartened... But thank you for all of the reviews so far! Happy Holidays! :D


	8. Come with Me part 2

A/N: Well, hello there, readers! My, it's been a while since I last updated. I'm sorry about that! I changed the plot summary to better suit the nature of the story. I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations, and feel free to review with any comments or ideas!

Oh, and in the last chapter, Saya dreamt of rainbow colored roses. I realize now that people not completely OBSESSED with the series may not get the reference. In episode 43, when Solomon is declaring his love for her, he tells Saya that there is an island where rainbow colored roses bloom all read round. Haha, I hope a few of you got the vague reference!

In honor of Valentine's Day, here's chapter 8!

--

Chapter 8: Come with me (part 2)

--The Open Door--

_The flowers by the bed__  
make me wish my head  
was lying and possessed by truth alone_

_a certain home  
A wooden gate, a rabbit hole  
We'll turn around, it won't be long  
Capture that place, won't it be fun  
Come with me_

_(Zwan)_

--

_Tick-tock _

_Tick-tock_

She looked at the clock in the sparkling kitchen. The tile was cool under her feet, and the silence around her would have been unsettling if happy sunlight wasn't shining through partly opened curtains. That, and, of course, and the elegant sheet of paper resting on the island in the middle of the kitchen.

Saya held the note in her hand, and read it aloud softly.

"Saya," she read, squinting slightly at his slanted cursive writing. It was very pretty and old-fashioned, but it was a little hard to read.

She joked, "Well, he was a doctor…" She laughed to herself and it bounced off of the walls. She sighed at the utter idiocy of that joke. Saya read the rest in silence.

_Saya, _

_I hope you slept well. Please excuse my absence. I got a call early this morning informing me that I was needed at work today. If it was anything less than an emergency, I would have refused. However, it appears that my colleagues may have come into some information pertaining to your situation. _

_I will be back at the apartment by five this evening. If you have any problems, or questions, please call me immediately. _

_In the meantime, please use the card on the counter to pay for new clothes, or whatever you might want or need. There are several stores just down the street, and Ray the doorman will call you a taxi to take you anywhere you need to go. The entire city should be completely secure. Nobody knows you're here. Please enjoy yourself._

_~Solomon_

Saya placed the note down, and stared at its companions resting on the glossy counter. A black leather wallet and a small silver cell phone looked back at her. She leaned against the edge, and held the wallet in her delicate hands, before opening it up. The main compartment was filled with cash, of course. Had she not been used to the Red Shield's constant bribes and expensive cover-ups, the fist-fulls of bills would have left her speechless.

She peeked at the clock again. It felt like the sun should be just rising, even though the clock said it was just past noon. Although she didn't much like the idea of spending a very distant acquaintance's money, or venturing out into a completely foreign city, Saya had to admit that it really was a good idea. She had shrugged back into the clothes she'd worn for the plane trip before stepping out of her room, and they felt worn and misshapen from the day's wear. She realized that as much as she wished it could, one set of clothes really wouldn't last if she wore them every day. But how on Earth could she enjoy the idea of a shopping spree when her loved ones were putting their lives on the line for something her blood had created?

Kai, Julia, David…Haji…Where were they? They must have evacuated Okinawa by now. No use standing around when you have a game plan set out and ready, right? Besides, if whoever was after her had found her out on a plane flying across the Pacific, surely they would have torn Okinawa apart looking for other evidence. It felt so strange not to be surrounded by those familiar heartbeats. Even though she had only been technically awake for a few months, Saya knew deep down, during her sleep, that her friends' hearts were beating somewhere.

But now it seemed so different; it was as if her life up to this point has been accompanied by a soothing melody that had just suddenly turned off. The air around her felt so stagnant and still and quiet. It was very similar to the feeling she had during her year with George and Riku and Kai—like a new beginning. The only difference was that during that time, something had felt empty, whereas now, it just felt…different.

Saya walked over to the fridge, and the slight rumbling in her stomach pulled her back to the present. She opened it up, and found it completely stocked with all the normal "human" food that one would expect in a standard fridge. She saw bottles and carafes of water and milk crowding up the uppermost shelves, with all sorts of vegetables and eggs and meats lying in the shelves below it. A Styrofoam container resting on the middle shelf caught her attention, and the queen surmised that her host must have ordered something for her to eat, after all. Before she could look inside of it, however, two full blood packets located next to it stole her focus. Saya also couldn't help but notice that they were left unaccompanied by any sort of IV, and she doubted she would find any around his apartment; and she was in no rapid desire to go snooping around his personal belongings looking for one…

Why, oh, _why_couldn't he be normal and just find an easier way to ingest his sustenance? The blood was necessary, sure, but sipping it elegantly from a wine glass just seemed so unnatural.

Or, perhaps, it was her who wasn't acting normally? Saya tried to gaze at the medical blood packets nonchalantly, and she questioned whether it was her chiropteran or human way of thinking that gave her the impression that drinking blood was disgusting.

Saya tried not to think badly of him for doing it so casually. After all, it didn't seem like Solomon got any sadistic pleasure out of consuming the red liquid. In fact, as she opened up the box and found what looked like delicious Italian pasta staring back at her, Saya came to the conclusion that, at the very least, it was much more pleasant than sucking the life out of an unsuspecting passerby.

And with that, she settled down at the kitchen table, and dug into the food and the literally blood-red drink that Solomon had so kindly prepared for her.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Ray really was wonderful.

The minute Saya stepped out of the private elevator she'd rode up in the night before, she saw the doorman's face beaming at her. Considering it was only one thirty in the afternoon, it was understandable that the building's lobby was all but deserted. Even the amazingly friendly doorman was standing away from his post, and she saw him straighten up from his previously relaxed pose and wave as soon as he saw her.

Saya felt self-conscious walking up to him at first, only to have her fears quelled when she realized that he wouldn't recognize her ensemble from the day before, as a heavy coat had covered it

"Miss Nikki! How are ya?" He called her over as soon as she acknowledged his wave with one of her own. He didn't wait for her response before continuing.

"Sammy tells me your bags got lost on your flight over here. That's wicked bad luck. Actually happened to me once. So you'll be spending the day shopping then?"

_So Solomon has a nickname, too_, Saya mused silently before responding, "That's the plan," and smiling.

"I'll call ya a taxi, then. I wouldn't recommend taking a car for shopping around town. Mr. Rosdale likes his cars, but the shopping district is right down the street, and it'll just be a hassle for ya to take one out."

"Thank you," Saya replied politely. She followed him out the front entrance and his high-pitched whistle summoned a taxi to the curb in front of her. Ray opened the door for her, and instructed the cab driver to take her a few blocks to the cluster of stores downtown.

"Good luck with your shopping, Miss Nikki," he said to her as the cab pulled away. She couldn't help but smile brightly back at him.

The afternoon sun danced off of the windows of the cars driving next to them, and the tanned driver made little small talk. The windows were opened slightly—just widely enough to let the wind rustle her bangs, which were still a little damp from a shower earlier. She always preferred to let her hair dry naturally, as she enjoyed the light, airy flips that formed when the wind blew her hair naturally straight.

Not completely up to speed with the current taxi etiquette, she handed the quiet driver a twenty, despite the meter ringing up only eight dollars. Saya thanked him with a smile and walked towards a large department store with a large, stylish sign reading "Neiman Marcus" gracing its entryway.

"Well, hell-o there!" A bubbly blonde employee greeted her before she had taken five steps inside. She wore all black, tight-fitting clothes that accented her rouged cheeks and golden highlights. The lovely woman shifted her weight to her other side and placed one hand on her hip.

She regarded Saya with a smile and cocked her head. "Now you look like someone who could use a dip in our winter collection! Just got a whole new shipment in last week"

Although a small part of her felt an urge to be insulted, she got the feeling that "Katrina" (the name on her gleaming nametag) meant no harm.

"Actually," Saya replied confidently, "that's exactly why I'm here. I need a whole new look."

"Well, that is fabulous! Come right this way, hon, I have the perfect thing for you." Katrina's tall frame made it easy for her to rest her thin hand on Saya's shoulder and lead her past stylishly dressed mannequins and towards a cluster of racks surrounding a three-paneled mirror.

"Now, in case you couldn't tell, my name is Katrina." Saya shook the woman's outstretched hand and she saw the fluorescent light glare off of her new friend's white teeth. "Now since it's so slow today, I'm all yours, so scoot right here into this dressing room and I'll just feed you everything we have."

After a brief moment of reluctance, she accepted the gorgeous saleslady's offer and thanked her in as posh a way as possible. It was almost fun, pretending to be some random socialite shopping ever-so-casually for the newest collections from France. It was easier, too, to just act that way; who would benefit from the knowledge that she had nothing besides the clothes on her back?

"You're about a size two, I'd guess. Is that about right?" Katrina was already rifling through the racks nearest to her.

"A two, or a four, sometimes," Saya replied, latching the door of the dressing room behind her, though keeping her head towards the woman so that she could still hear her.

"I see, I see…" The saleswoman was already preoccupied. The red queen assumed that she could probably smell the cash and card burning a hole through the wallet in Saya's purse. "And what did you say your name was again?"

"Nikki," Saya said, and she sounded so indifferent that was perfectly believable even to her overly suspect ears

"Well, then, Nikki, I found most of your standard basics here," the cheery voice slipped about ten hangers full of clothes over the door. She saw the top of her blonde head disappear. She called back to her charge, "I'll be right back!"

Saya changed into the clothes without really looking at them. She had to admit, though, for a woman with such an obvious height different to her own (she must have been at least five foot nine, compared to her own five foot three), Katrina was excellent at finding clothes to fit a petite body. There were even a few pieces she became quite fond of: a tunic length blouse that ruffled at the neck, a few pairs of pants that for once in her life didn't drag on the floor, even a burgundy coat stirred an odd sense of déjà-vu in her. By the time Katrina had made her third round back to her dressing room, Saya had given up on choosing by the clothes by preference (it would take far too long to sort through everything), and decided instead to organize them merely by 'that which fits' and 'that which does not fit.'

"Show me the short dress, Nikki," Katrina commanded. Saya looked down at the black cocktail dress she now wore. She'd tried it on only out of curiosity, but dreaded the thought of actually showing to someone. Still, she felt a note of gratitude towards her friendly hostess, and stepped nervously out of her dressing room.

"Ooohh, wow, you look fantastic!" Her blonde curls bobbed and she clapped her hands. "I knew it would look beautiful."

It wasn't a bad dress, really. The skirt flowed nicely to just above her knees, and it was very tasteful, save the neckline that gathered only about two inches above her navel. The black was very matte, and it was exactly the kind of eveningwear she could have seen Mao Johana wear years earlier on a classy date with her flavor of the week. On her, however, Saya felt it was not only highly impractical, but that it also left much to be desired.

"It's very pretty, but I'm really not looking for anything like…this." Saya looked at her friend apologetically. She pouted and her shoulders sank, but she seemed mildly satisfied from the pile of clothes she'd convinced the queen to buy.

"Well, okay…I suppose it's not very winter, anyway. But tell me," Katrina continued as Saya returned to change back into her own attire, having found at least a season's worth. "Is Nikki short for Nicole?"

"Yes, it is," She replied, emerging and combing her fingers through her hair. She noticed Katrina regarding her curiously, and asked, "Why?"

Katrina smiled coyly, and managed to lean in close, even with her sky-high pumps and armfuls of clothing. "You wouldn't happen to be Nicole _Georges_, would you?"

A million thoughts raced through her head all at once. There were so many horrible things that could come out of her affirming the charming woman's assumptions, but strangely, the glisten in her eye wasn't the least bit intimidating. There was something so very natural in her question.

"Umm, yes, actually, I am."

Katrina clapped and jumped a little in excitement, sending click-clacks from her heels bouncing off of the walls surrounding the check-out. "Ooohh, I thought so! It's so nice to finally meet you. _He_ talks about you all the time."

Saya had a very good idea who she was talking about.

"O-Oh, does he?" Saya said nervously, handing the animated lady the platinum card Solomon had left her. Manicured nails swiped the card out of her hand, and took the realistic looking ID as soon as Saya located it.

"Of course, I thought it was you as soon as you walked in, 'cause the way he talks about you I feel like we've met before. But this would have given it away." She twirled the card and ID in her fingers. She continued with a laugh,

"Even if I didn't know your name, Mr. Rosdale is the only one I've seen with a platinum card like this." She laughed and handed the card back to Saya, who saw a five-digit total disappear from the screen as a receipt printed out. She cringed inwardly.

"So! Is that going to be everything?" Katrina's voice took pulled her focus back to her. "Did you take a cab here? Need help with your bags on the way out?"

"Um, yes, and yes, thank you." Saya looked around the spacious store as a big, polished-looking man took her bags, and realized she couldn't see a clock. "Do you happen to have the time?"

"Why yes I do!" Katrina looked at her watch as she led the young woman out. "It's about four o'clock."

"Thank you," Saya replied, stepping outside into the chilly sun. "And thank you, so much for your help." The man carrying her bags had already loaded them into a cab, and Saya waved at Katrina as she walked away.

"Oh, it's no problem. Hope to see you again soon!" Her teeth sparkled in the sun. By the time Saya climbed into the taxi and turned back to look, she was gone.

The ride back to the apartment was uneventful. She was graced with a silent cabby. She watched the clouds float lazily in the sky, and she couldn't help but feel a little bad for matching its pace. There were beasts in the making somewhere in the world, and she was sitting peacefully in safe America, shopping with the money of her pretend-boyfriend. The mighty warrior, the chiropteran-killing machine Saya, sitting in a cab like a queen in a carriage, doing nothing.

And what was even worse—it wasn't as though she had just been a coward and run off as soon as fate threatened her happily-ever-after. No, she had been forced to relocate, not because she wished to do nothing, but because she was utterly unable to do anything but nothing. Her group had realized that she was a liability, and even her fiancé had agreed when they made the choice to send her away.

She thanked the driver when they pulled up to the building and paid him graciously. She refused the valets eager offers to help her with her bags, and made friendly small talk with Ray before heading towards the elevator. It didn't sound like Solomon was back yet, and when she opened the door, she found the apartment completely empty. Sighing to herself, she looked around the spacious dwelling, and found herself feeling somewhat lonely.

Even though she in no way missed his confessions of love (though he hadn't made any recently), his warm smile and city knowledge would certainly make her feel a little more assured.

She decided that, since moping wasn't making her feel any better, she would put her new clothes away. The thought of getting settled into this particular abode still didn't leave her stomach feeling easy, but Saya told herself to suck it up. At the very least, she remembered, her being so far away from the actual mission left Haji content and happy.

She made her way to her room, going directly there through the hallway, instead of taking a detour through the kitchen. She saw what she assumed was the laundry room, and laughed a little to herself. Even though she'd never seen Solomon in the same suit twice, even he wouldn't be snobbish enough to throw out an outfit after wearing it only once.

She was about to make a beeline for her room, but she heard a small creak next to her left ear. She turned her head swiftly, but found only another door she hadn't thought to notice. It was left slightly ajar, and the air moved by her presence in the hallway must have pushed it open a little further.

Solomon's room.

She raced to her room and made sure the bags stayed upright after she practically threw them next to her bed, and she ventured back into the hallway.

Saya couldn't contain her curiosity. Maybe it was because it had been the only room that Solomon hadn't amiably showed her, or maybe it was because it seemed too tempting standing unguarded in the deserted apartment. It could have even been because the closer she inched to the door, the closer she came to a sweet aroma that seemed both out of place, and familiar in her head. Regardless, she opened the door, half expecting him to be sitting there, half expecting a hidden secret.

The only secret was that Solomon was very tidy.

One would never guess that the apartment belonged to anyone not completely normal. There was a corner desk, with a very expensive looking computer on it, and a large leather armchair. There was a narrow bookcase filled with books with all sorts of colors and bindings that reached to the ceiling. It faced a giant bed that looked as if it had been clipped out of an exclusive catalogue, complete with coordinating black and white sheets and an assortment of pillows that Saya was positive had never been touched. There was a wardrobe, as well, and a closet, and in looks, the room itself was probably very standard for someone so high-class.

But it didn't feel like it should be standard for Solomon Goldsmith.

Every time she turned around, something new was thrown at her. Where she had expected an awkward welcome, there stood an ideal relationship and understanding. Saya stood speechlessly at the room, and was still in awe as the closed the door so that it was just barely touching the doorframe.

She had never expected so much humanity out of someone so… inhuman.

There was a chance, of course, that it was all for show. He had even told her so himself, last night, the importance of 'keeping up appearances.' But it didn't really seem to be an act, for her, or anyone else. His human tendencies seemed to be a preference, probably a habit, which he developed over years of exploring the 'other' ways of living.

The way he kept his house decorated, or the way he shopped or made friends—these things weren't the habits picked out at random to show off and fool innocent doormen and saleswomen. No, it was his way of coping with who he was. Solomon had the looks and all of the means to live like the Victorian vampires in classical literature if he wanted to. Hell, there were probably women who would let him suck their blood if it meant they could gaze at his face in the moonlight. However, when she pictured a chevalier wearing a cape and a cravat, it was Haji's strong, magnificent features she saw.

But just as Haji dealt with his transformation with Saya and their future together, adjusting it as necessary, and mourning over the losses they suffered for their heritage, Solomon handled the change by…changing nothing at all; by inserting any of his extra needs as though they were nothing more than slightly inconvenient amendments to his day to day life. He'd grown so accustomed to drinking blood that it must be like water to him now, and just like last night, he most likely spent his sleepless evenings tapping away on his laptop in the kitchen.

Saya wandered back to the kitchen, reached for an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter, and thought to herself what an uncomplicated, ideal life it must be.

The glaring sun forced her to turn her head towards the wall holding the clock. It read four forty-five. Part of her was actually aching for Solomon to come home, if only to have someone to talk to. He was very, very good at talking. She was inwardly curious about a few things, too, though she wasn't sure how many of them would come up in casual conversation. The queen was surprised to find herself curious about his job, and his work life. There were even questions regarding his personal life that popped into her head, like how old he was, and where he was born, or what his favorite color was. She felt odd having these sudden curiosities in her head, but it was inevitable, wasn't it? When you're stuck living with someone, it's only natural to get curious about them.

As she walked over to the window to get a better look at what she presumed must a lovely view, the extra door in the living room caught her attention. Hadn't Solomon said it led to a patio upstairs? As she reached for the doorknob, she was reminded of an incident similar to this one that occurred, where she opened a closed door was too tempting to resist. Except this time, there was no key to unbolt an ancient lock, and her Victorian skirts and frills and heels didn't bog her down. This time, the only voice calling her from the other side was in her heart.

She opened it up, and saw a staircase surrounded by the only walls in his apartment that weren't tastefully decorated. They were plain grey concrete, and matched the stairs. Twelve, thirteen, fourteen stairs, she counted as she marched up, and opened the handle on the top door considerably slower than the first.

It was a breathtaking view. The sun was still high enough in the sky to cast high shadows across the buildings below, and bright, radiant blues that could have passed for Diva's eyes sparkled off of the windows of the city.

"There you are," a lyrical voice observed, causing her breath to jump back into her throat. "The view is lovely, isn't it?" Solomon walked up to her and placed his hands on the railing she was leaning against. He turned towards her and smiled.

"It is," she replied dreamily, watching a bird glide gracefully through the sky. "It's like you can see the whole city from up here."

"_We_ probably could," he laughed, turning around so that they were leaning the same way. Saya looked over at her unsolicited chevalier, and the way he leaned against the railing aloofly, chin tilted towards the increasingly beautiful sky, small smile playing with his lips, made him look like a marble statue decorating the veranda. She looked away, embarrassed, when he turned his head toward her.

"Are you getting hungry?" Solomon asked her, taking a quick glance to the practically unrecognizable apple core in her hand. "Or did you already eat when you went out?"

"You spoke to Ray, then?" She ran her hand through her hair, and felt relieved. So she was right in taking the hint to go out and shop in Solomon's note.

"Well, I did, but I actually saw the bags in your room. Ray told me you'd returned, but when I didn't see you, I thought maybe you were still tired and went to sleep." He shrugged, but smiled genuinely at her. "I can't believe you went to Neiman Marcus; I must have just missed you."

"What?" Saya mimicked his happy tone, even amongst the confusion. "Did you go shopping after work?"

He stood up straight and turned the direction of the setting sun.

"Yes," Solomon answered plainly. "Not for myself, though." He turned towards her again and looked a little embarrassed as he scratched the back of his head.

"I felt bad for leaving so abruptly this morning," he explained. "I knew that even if you woke up after I got back, you wouldn't have anything to wear, so I stopped by the store on my way home. I should have known you'd beat me to it."

Instead of remembering the last time he'd bought clothes for her, or finding the situation at hand awkward, Saya found herself laughing. Only Solomon would fill her with money and instruct her to go shopping, and end up doing it himself. She wasn't the least bit concerned, either; looking at Solomon laughing there alongside her in a classic black suit, she knew that, at the most, the clothes he bought would be very chic.

"Would you like to go get something to eat, then?" he asked as soon as her giggles ceased. Although she hadn't answered his question, he seemed to take the way she'd devoured her apple as clear indication that she hadn't eaten since before she left.

"Sure," Saya replied. Although she was sure he was well aware of the full fridge just below them, she had a feeling that Solomon wanted to take advantage of having a guest. Something in his air always seemed so far away and almost lonely, and she couldn't say that she didn't enjoy his company.

"Excellent." She saw his eyes light up at her keenness to go out. It just made things easier to go along with his plans, rather than even register the awkwardness the situation should have created.

"You can change first, if you want." He said offhandedly once they returned to the kitchen. "I'm going to."

He continued as Saya stared at him quizzically. "Something more casual," he elaborated with a smile. She nodded, and started walking towards her own room.

"I will too, then," she said happily, if only to satisfy her growing curiosity of what he'd bought. "I'll be ready in a few minutes."

"Take your time."

When she stepped into her room, she noticed that it was once again spotless. When Solomon dropped off his own items, he must have taken the liberty of hanging up hers as well. Saya didn't take it as an invasion of privacy; it was less work for her, anyway.

Opening the closet, she wondered if extravagance ran in chevalier's blood. Although she hadn't really paid attention to what Katrina had given her, she was positive that she hadn't bought this much. It wasn't a ridiculous amount—in fact, for any proper socialite, it was probably too little. She had to laugh at that readiness to spend money. Was she the only one drilled to appreciate the meaning of a dollar?

Solomon had said 'casual,' but she had gathered from observation at this point that his view of casual wasn't the same as most everyone else's. She remembered an outfit Katrina had pulled directly off of pale, posh mannequin— grey pants, a pink and white button up blouse, with a small brown blazer. She found the pants and shirt easy enough, but when scavenged through the line of clothes for the third time (each time being reminded of Solomon's fantastic taste), Saya considered that perhaps he had put her jacket in the wardrobe next to her bedside table.

The wood felt cold as she opened the doors. She found her blazer, and as she took it out and laid it on the bed next to the rest of her clothes, she saw the burgundy coat she bought earlier, along with…the black dress. After a brief moment of confirming to herself that Katrina hadn't snuck it by her and into her bag, she surmised that Solomon bought it himself.

She found it quite funny, actually. To him, the dress probably wasn't as out of place as it was to her. He likely went to cocktail parties and fancy dinners every other night. Plus, Saya could see him shopping alone in the large store, only to be bombarded by Katrina and her tale of meeting his young girlfriend. She found the thought of them standing together, her practically eye and eye with him in heels, talking about fashion, very amusing.

Slipping off her jacket, a sparkle from her bedside table caught her attention.

Her engagement ring.

Saya picked it up and cradled it in her hands. She'd placed it on the table tenderly that morning before she left, so as to avoid any confusion about engagements to anyone else. Even though it was only the other day, her last memory of Haji seemed a million miles away, as though years and years had passed and clouded his face in her mind. She fingered it lovingly, and pictured Haji clearly and beautifully in her head. Close to tears, she put the ring back down, too scared to risk losing it if she kept it in a pocket.

With her finger feeling suddenly naked, she felt it was almost worth faking being engaged to Solomon, if it meant she could feel close to Haji again. But she wasn't able to defile her commitment to Haji like that, both because she knew he would vehemently disapprove, and because the thought of pretending to be engaged to Solomon Goldsmith didn't immediately turn her off.

She finished changing and stepped into the bathroom. Haji had actually taken her wearing make-up very well, probably because he'd met her when she rouged her cheeks and lips. She tried to keep it light, just enough to satisfy her and her nieces girlish impulses. She flipped her hair around and opened up the make-up kit that Katrina had practically forced her to buy, with the excuse that it was too good of a deal to let her leave the store without. She just darkened her eyes a little, and glossed her lips like she did earlier that morning. Smiling in the mirror, Saya decided not to keep Solomon waiting any longer.

He was in the kitchen already, as she expected. He was taking small sips from a wine glass while leaning aloofly against the island counter. His dark red shirt matched the blood in his glass. Instead of the double breasted suit he wore a few minutes earlier, he now donned a simpler black one, which he wore with the jacket open. Next to him was another glass of nutrients, presumably for the queen he was housing.

"I thought it would be nice to show you around the city," he said pleasantly, handing her the glass. "After we're done eating, I can take you around, if you'd like."

"Sure," she agreed after taking her first sip. It felt strange having another dose only a few hours after her first, but she trusted Solomon's discretion. She took a few more sips until the glass was almost empty before continuing, "Is it very cold outside?"

"You should be fine with that on," he said, taking her glass after she finished it off. He placed the glasses in the sink and turned towards her. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah," she replied, a little flustered by his powerful gaze.

"Then let's go." Solomon offered the queen his arm once he opened the door to the hallway outside. "Come with me."

Solomon locked up behind them, and he pushed for the elevator. Being the only direct elevator up to the penthouse, it came relatively quickly.

"You look lovely, Saya," he said softly as the doors closed. It felt like forever since she'd been called by that name, even though he'd said it less than twenty-four hours before. He looked down at her and smiled playfully, "I believe I saw a mannequin dressed in the exact same outfit."

"So glad you noticed," Saya responded, staring at the shiny elevator floor. "I have no taste. My nieces tell me so all the time. Haha, I'm sure it looked better on the mannequin."

"Oh, I disagree," he countered innocently as the door opened, revealing a moderately crowded lobby.

"Is that so?" She was surprised to find herself coyly questioning him.

"Of course," Solomon answered. He slipped his arm around her waist when they came into public view, and he whispered to her, "I would take you pretending to be my girlfriend over a piece of plastic any day." His breath was warm on her face, and she couldn't help but laugh at his casualness with her. It was so easy pretending with him. She grabbed the back of his coat affectionately and nudged him in the ribs.

"Thanks so much," she muttered under her breath with a grin.

"Going for a night out?" Ray asked as they stepped through the door to the refreshing air outside.

"You bet," Saya replied as Solomon left her side to toss a pair of keys at one of the young valets. She heard his say, "Ferrari," to the uniformed boy. She felt her body give an inward sigh of relief when her blonde companion returned, though her mind didn't know why.

The valet returned in an instant, or maybe it just felt that way to the young queen, who was perfectly comfortable listening to Solomon and Ray chat about sports and making small barbs at one another. The valet handed the polished man the keys.

"You bring him back to me in one piece, alright, Miss Nikki?" Ray laughed as Solomon opened her car door for her.

"Oh, don't worry, Ray, I want to see his face when the Yankees make it to the play-offs as much as you do." Ray roared with laughter as Solomon shook his head at him. When they pulled out, Saya noticed he could hardly contain his wide smile.

"I never took you as a sports buff, Sammy." She tilted her head towards him, and he laughed.

"It's a good hobby," he explained. "When you have all night and day, you find a lot of different ways to occupy your time."

"I see," she noted quietly.

"I don't think anybody knows more about the Red Sox than I do," he continued happily. Saya stared at her blonde host out of the corner of her eye. Every time Haji would mention his sleepless hours, or when she would wake up in the middle night, only to find him staring off into space next to her, the face of her beloved would look so pained. She could watch him for hours like that, trying to figure out what was going though his head. He was so close to her, but so far away.

"What's that?" She said. Suddenly, a building even more impressive than their apartment building caught her eye. It must have been the tallest, most brightly lit edifice in the city.

"That would be the Vierretti International Bank. It's the biggest international finance building in New York."

Solomon was probably used to the grandeur structures, but Saya was absolutely amazed by the sparkling lights coming out of the windows. She leaned her head to try and see the top of the bank, and Solomon pressed a button on the steering wheel that rolled down her window. She popped her head out, and she got a close up view as they drove slowly passed it.

"Impressive, isn't it?" he said, indulging her, even though he must have seen it a million times. However, something else caught her attention.

"It smells delicious," Saya stated out of the blue. Her head was back in the car, but her nose stuck out slightly. Her companion looked and raised a golden eyebrow. He watched her with a confused smile as she moved her head towards the various smells of the city.

"I smell so much food," she exclaimed, full of awe. "It smells so good."

"Ooh, I see," Solomon laughed, turning the car into brightly lit alley, where many cars were parked. "You're smelling the street vendors. They always set up close to the banks in the hopes of attracting customers." To Saya's surprise, the car came to a halt, and the windows rolled up automatically.

"I guess it worked."

She barely registered what he said by the time he was opening her door for her. She just stared at his bright eyes as he waited for her to join him.

"Why did we stop here?" She turned her head, and although there were plenty of cars parked in a line around them, his luxurious dark red sports car may as well have had a sign saying 'steal me' hanging on the hood.

"You want to try the food over there, don't you?" His gentle waves bobbed as he nodded towards the street, slightly crowded with people leaving the buildings. Saya looked at his smile, a little taken aback.

"Well, yes," she stuttered, still a little astounded at his expectant eyes. She was going to continue—she wanted to explain to him her one-track mind when it came to food, and to apologize for giving him the (correct, but rather rude) impression that she would rather eat from a street vendor than the four star establishment she was sure he would better fit into, but he interrupted her train of thought by lifting her out of the car gently by the arm.

"You want to go, so we should go." He summed up his feelings genially. Solomon didn't seem to mind her preference at all. "It'll be fun."

Saya braced herself for Solomon's warm hand to wrap itself in her hand, or around her shoulder or hip, but instead he offered her his arm once again. She took it with a smile, but even as the delicious aromas got closer, she found herself wondering by she'd noticed his affections so intently.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

She must have had about two of everything.

The street was like a miniature carnival. On every corner, there was a different stand selling steaming food. Hot buns, churros, hot dogs—she was surprised that Solomon hadn't questioned her sanity as she kept eating after the first hour of stopping at every vendor they came across. In fact, fifteen minutes after they began walking down the boulevard, Saya ordered a hot dog, only to turn around and find him eating one right there alongside her.

He stopped mid-chew as he finally noticed her staring at him in awe.

"What?" He asked after he swallowed. They stood off to the side to have a moderately private conversation.

"I didn't think," she hesitated. "You're eating; I didn't think, that you could…" She trailed off, afraid to offend him, or sound ridiculous.

"Oh, no, I can eat," Solomon explained with a small smile. "We can eat, if we want. I think it's courteous to eat when others are."

Saya couldn't help but think of the many awkward meals she'd eaten with Haji sitting silently and seriously next to her. Although she'd never really expected him to, her fiancé had never tried to calm her nerves when it came to situations involving his eating habits, or lack thereof. He never seemed to notice the way his striking gaze made her slightly uncomfortable, and even though his eyes were always mostly doting, her mind felt compelled to imagine what it would be like if Haji were a bit more like Solomon in that respect.

The rest of the carts went the same way, and she spent so much time being engulfed by the city and laughing, that when she thought to ask the time, he told her it was just past ten. The vendors had long since packed up and left, and any traffic had died down enough so that other than the occasional late night couple like themselves, they were alone walking down the sidewalk.

"So how are Sonomi and Aoko?" Solomon inquired. His torso was covered only by his wine colored shirt now, having given Saya his jacket earlier that night, at his insistence. "You mentioned them earlier. Are they well?"

"They were when I left," she replied almost sadly, picturing their smiling faces distorted into battle scowls drenched in blood. She shook the image out of her head. "Have you met them?"

"Not directly. I met with David and Joel a few years ago, to clear up everything. They were kind enough to inform me of everything going on in Okinawa, and I decided it would be best not to interrupt Kai Miyugusuku's family by introducing myself to them." He put his hand on the small of her back go guide her as they crossed the street.

"From what I heard, though," he continued, almost musing to himself, "they were rather surprised to hear that one of their mother's chevalier was still living."

"I was quite surprised myself." Saya laughed, looking up at him in the pale moonlight. The dim light reflected off of his hair as he peered back down at her.

"Really? Why?"

Saya felt his gaze on her face even as she stared straight ahead. Their pace slowed, and eventually halted. Although she felt the topic taboo, she found her body aching to talk to him.

"Because, you…" She swallowed, and looked earnestly into his eyes. "You died, Solomon."

She could have sworn she saw Solomon's eyes widen as soon as she finished, but his face returned to the serene, peaceful visage she sometimes found herself staring at. He reached toward her face, and placed a loose tendril of hair behind her ear and smiled placatingly at her.

"No, I didn't," he told her. His eyebrows were raised apologetically like there had been a misunderstanding, and Saya suddenly felt very embarrassed. He looked as though he was going to continue and elaborate, but an older couple walking by caught his attention, and he smiled warmly at them as they passed. They held his attention even after they passed, but then he turned his head towards Saya, who was still confused over his answer.

"We're almost back to the car," he informed her. She took her chevalier's offered arm, and ignored the slight irritation it left her with. His calm attitude mystified her, and she could feel his even heartbeats through his arm. She wasn't sure if her own fast heartbeats were in her head or not.

A flash of lights signaled that his car was (to Saya's surprise) still parked in the alley. As he opened her door for her, she asked Solomon why he wasn't the least bit worried about parking in such a questionable location. He tapped his ear with his index finger and smiled.

"I would have known if someone came near it."

The drive back to the apartment felt too quick without the traffic. Solomon had informed her that Albany had grown a substantial amount in the last thirty years; even going on to reveal that the only real difference between it and New York City now was that Albany had virtually no night life. When asked if he had a preference between the two, he explained that he enjoyed Albany because the he found that the people were nicer.

Ray was gone when they finally returned at eleven. There was only one valet working the graveyard shift, and he and Solomon exchanged pleasantries before he escorted Saya back to his apartment.

"Did you have a good time?" His voice was like a lullaby. She nodded, and his soft hands grazed her neck as he took his jacket back from her to hang up, and his touch lingered long after his hands left her neck. She took a seat at the counter, and he leaned nonchalantly against the sink on the other side.

"You know everyone in the city, don't you?" she asked with a smile, remembering Katrina and Ray from earlier that day, and recalling that no matter who was working, everyone at the front desk and the surrounding departments knew him well enough to carry casual conversation. He laughed a little, and the sound of Solomon's voice made Saya want to prolong the conversation.

"A woman at the store today talked about you," she continued, enjoying the lighthearted tone of the moment, especially after the tension on their walk an hour earlier became too much to bear. "She was funny; her name was Katrina."

There was silence for a moment, and then Solomon laughed loudly, and ran his hands through his hair. She got the distinct feeling that she was missing something. She laughed along with him, if only to make his laughter sound less foreign in her ears.

"Katrina," he said to himself, as though trying to picture her face in his head. "She's the blonde, correct?"

"The tall, beautiful blonde," Saya corrected, feeling that someone as glamorous as her deserved a bit more credit. After all, it would be hardly appropriate to describe someone like Solomon as plainly as _the guy in the suit_, would it?

He stared at her for a few seconds, before saying rather frankly, "She's not that pretty. I don't quite like her. I find she has the nasty habit as butting into other people's business." Solomon looked distastefully out the window, before sighing and smiling brightly at her.

"I have to admit, she has fine taste, though," he laughed, reaching over the counter to fix her shirt collar over her jacket. He looked at the clock, and then back at her. "Are you getting tired?"

"Actually, yes," Saya replied honestly. She shrugged her shoulders before walking over to the kitchen table. "I didn't get up until noon, but my body's exhausted. I've no idea why."

"You are probably still a little out of balance from the trip." When Solomon stood up from leaning, he was just a few inches away from her. "You should be fine by tomorrow."

"You're right," she yawned. Solomon's cerulean eyes followed her like a shadow as she walked over and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

"That reminds me," his prosaic voice exclaimed from directly behind her. His arm held the fridge door open, and she could feel his body close to her.

"Here, let me show you." He pressed a small latch on the inside wall of the fridge with his long fingers, and a little trapdoor opened from the top, revealing a tray holding about twenty or so blood packets. He touched the latch again, and the tray folded up and disappeared. He moved out of the way so Saya could try, which she did with amazement.

"That's so cool," She said, still pressing the little latch over and over, watching in amazement as it continued to appear and disappear out of the top of the fridge. "Where did you find this?"

"You can find anything if you look hard enough. Especially in New York."

Saya closed the door and took a sip of water. She laughed and looked up at him still standing next to her. "Are you in the Mafia or something?"

He laughed at her accusation.

"You actually aren't the first person to ask that," Solomon declared with a large smile. "People at work ask me all the time." He started walking towards the hallway, and Saya's aching body thanked him for the hint.

"Will you be gone again tomorrow?" Saya asked, feeling the sudden urge to confirm his presence.

"I should be home by lunch, around noon," he clarified. They stopped at her open door, and she saw him smiling down at her. "If you want, we can go out when I come back."

"That'd be nice," She told him, embarrassed at her heart's quickening pace.

"Good. I'll see you tomorrow."

He bent down and tucked her hair behind her ear once again.

"Have a good night," He said softly against her cheek. Saya watched him walk away as she closed her door, and sat down on her bed.

When she finally felt calm and tired enough to sleep almost an hour later, she held her engagement ring affectionately in her hand. She forced herself to ignore the faint feelings tugging at heart, and tried desperately to determine which heart they were touching.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! The plot continues more seriously in the next chapter, where some of the characters introduced earlier make re-appearance. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE review, readers! They will be much appreciated!


	9. Fight with Me

A/N: Soooo yeah! Sorry about the long wait! I was trying to post all of the new chapters on holidays, so I waited for St. Patrick's Day, but I didn't like the direction I ended up going, so I rewrote it for April Fool's Day, but I got too bogged down with schoolwork to even start writing! And so it goes, so it goes…but now college semester is over and I am free to write again! Yeehaw!

ANYWAY, I hope absence has made the heart grow fonder, and that my WONDERFUL readers will REVIEW and show me some LOVE.

Oh, and, ummmm, I realize that some of you may question my music taste if you listen to all of the songs I pull lyrics from. I actually decided to gather all the songs up and make a playlist on my iPod to give me inspiration when I had writers block, and I almost slit my wrists. The music itself is (it has to be said) random and depressing and overall out of place in this story. I will pick better songs from this point forward, but please focus on the lyrics and not the actual songs themselves ^_^;;

Also, just to clarify, thirty days have passed since the last chapter. It is now October 31st, 2036. This chapter and the next one were posted at the same time, and they occur concurrently. Please read it when you are done with this one! :D

--

Chapter 9: Fight with me

--Sour grapes--

_We stand by your side to  
fight for your right  
Born with a blade in your hand  
We will follow your call  
We will come when you call us to the war  
Tyrants are coming to down us all  
Fight to save our souls  
Thousands will fall onto the battle  
This is the tune of the rebel_

_(__G. Feldhausen)_

--

They say that time flies when you are having fun, and he cursed himself for once expressing annoyance at the phrase. At this present moment, he would have given anything to believe that there was actually a way for time to move faster.

Abram Michaels had always considered himself a patient man. He was well-mannered, clean-shaven, and very friendly with his co-workers. He remembered his wedding anniversary every year, and always took time off during the holidays to spend much-needed time with his family. He carried himself with a pleasant air, even though his auburn hair was going gray before his time. Five years ago, when he was offered a transfer from his CIA linguistics position to one directly under Colonel Jefferson McCoy, he'd readily accepted. However, standing silently across from his seated supervisor, he began to rethink his decision.

The minutes went by slowly, and Abram's eyes lingered less and less on the backs of the documents that he had given McCoy, and instead, he watched the colonel's face. It contorted ever-so-slightly now and then, but it didn't give any real emotion away. This was the kind of atmosphere that made the almost eternally calm Michaels extremely nervous.

It was just over a month ago that he had received a memo stating that Jefferson McCoy needed to see him. They'd been working together long enough that even though Abram's linguistics duties kept him away from the Pentagon, they still maintained a close relationship. Abram knew that he was Jefferson's most trusted subordinate, so when he was requested so urgently to report back to the base of operations, he assumed it was important.

What he found waiting for him was unimaginable.

McCoy, who had always been outwardly stern and cold, had a renewed sense of urgency and life. His light blue eyes, almost grey enough to match his hair, sparkled brightly with every mention of the word… _chiropteran_.

Abram wasn't too surprised at the news; not really. He had been told straight out that his job was a confidential one. Jefferson McCoy had requested him not for a specific job, but for a _mission._

He'd started out with the knowledge that there was an undercover threat to the world's populace. He understood that this threat was not human. Abram hadn't even felt attached to the project until a little over his first year working under McCoy. There hadn't been a reason for him to feel that same resolve that his boss held onto, until the colonel, in a rare moment of chattiness, asked him why he was fighting.

His response was simple and honest.

"_Sir, I'm not fighting."_

_McCoy looked at him blankly, or rather, it was an emotion Abram had never registered before._

"_People… are always fighting, Michaels. People _need _to fight to survive. My grandfather fought in the Second World War. Did you know that? Every male in my family has fought for this country, in some way. My great-grandfather lost an arm in World War 1, and I myself am a veteran of the Gulf War and the wars in Iraq and Iran."_

"_What about your father?"_

Abrams realized now that he had played right into the colonel's hands with that question.

"_My father died in the Vietnam War," McCoy said resolutely. Pride was evident in his voice, but it had a slight edge to it, and he went on._

"_It was long before your time, wasn't it? Just one more war for the history books. I didn't fight, of course; I was just a boy at the time. But I saw it all."_

_Abram looked at his commander warily._

"…_Sir?"_

"_In 1970, my father was requested as the head of the on-site unit in charge of Operation Ranch Hand, the defoliage project used to clear out the thick canopies of Vietnam. The government allowed many officers like my father to bring their families, and he did just that. For about two years we lived in relative comfort, given the situation._

"_However, in 1972, my father was called into active duty when there was an attack on a village nearby. He thought it was the VC, or some other resistance group."_

_McCoy paused, and Abram got the impression he was supposed to say something. In reality, he wanted his mentor to continue, but the thought of speaking such a tense situation made his mouth balk. He asked as cautiously as he could manage, knowing there must be a secret behind it._

"_What was it?"_

_He closed his eyes, and replied, "Terrifyingly beautiful… It was a chiropteran."_

After that fateful conversation, Abram Michaels found himself pooled into the very small group inside the American military and government that knew the meaning of that word. And he realized that now, he was part of an even smaller group of individuals that knew the top officer's personal connection to them.

"_There were… monsters, that's the only word to describe them," the colonel continued. "We had more than enough troops and soldiers to eliminate a threat three or four times that size, but they fought for hours. Our family was stationed on the outskirts of small village, and within three hours, the battle raged so close to us I could see the beasts' limbs and heads being shot off by soldiers only to have them regenerate and attack everything within reach._

"_My mother and baby brother were evacuated immediately, but I snuck off to find my father before our convoy departed. By then there was only one cluster of troops and chiropterans still fighting, and I assumed that my father was winning. I saw the ground littered with burn marks and rocky husks of monsters, and I ran, and I was happy."_

The present's Jefferson McCoy finally looked up from the papers, and addressed Abram neutrally.

"How did the meeting go? I apologize that I wasn't able to make it."

"Don't be," Abram replied, a little disappointed at the memory of the meeting. "It was exactly what you predicted; there wasn't a trace of her anywhere in Okinawa."

"And the planes?" McCoy was a little on edge, his fingernails unintentionally tapping the desk quickly and almost inaudibly. "And for God's sake, Abram, take a seat; you have rank."

Personally and professionally, Abram mused, as he pulled out a chair on his side of the boss's desk.

"Confidentially, we have no idea what happened. When you called me here a little over one month ago, we got the entire group together, and we were able to determine her location in Okinawa, and decided to inspect every flight that left Japan. It was relatively simple, considering the people we have on the team and the advanced surveillance system the Japanese government gave us access to. We were able to confirm her presence on flight 232 out of Tokyo International on October first."

"So what was the problem?" McCoy glared at him, but Michaels had enough experience with the older man to know that it wasn't personal. He was glaring at the situation, not at Abram.

"Flight 232 had a layover in Hawaii, so when it landed there approximately seven hours after departure from Tokyo, we stormed the plane discreetly. But... when we sent the passengers out for an 'emergency gas leakage check,' she was nowhere to be found. The tapes show her entering the terminal, and we recovered her luggage, but she… seems to have vanished."

The happiness had drained so quickly from his commander's face since when he first handed him the report. His frustrated, devoid stare was so similar to the look Abram remembered all those years ago.

"—_and I was happy."_

_The colonel stared at the tasteful paintings on the office wall with an odd, distant look of disinterest. At least, that's how it looked to Abram._

"_About thirty-five men against six or seven chiropterans. They seemed to have been warned; they even appeared to have a strategy working for them. But I saw in the distance the strangest thing—the monsters were being destroyed in a way that couldn't have been done by human hands or weapons. And I suddenly realized that my father and his team were firing at something else."_

_Abram felt almost as though he was intruding upon his superiors' memory by listening, but out of respect he kept his gaze awkwardly steady on him. McCoy turned back to him with a steely look._

"_She was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, and ever will see. As soon as she came into view, the firing increased to an almost deafening amount. But I couldn't hear it. My ears were filled a lovely song so out of place in the carnage. I realized that this woman was one of the chiropterans, and that she was the real enemy._

"_The monsters around her were gone in an instant, and she moved like a flash to the first sniper only feet away from the rest of my father's troop. I closed my eyes and it seemed like ages until I opened them again, with the song and those screams only a fading sound."_

_Abram remarked to himself that the horrific tale was almost poetic in its delivery. Perhaps that is the affect something gives when it is so obviously true._

"_She mustn't have seen me, and she was gone when I ran over to the remnants of my father's battalion. I found him instantly. He looked happy to see me. I could tell that he recognized me despite his fatal wounds. He told me to stop her, and I made a promise that day to carry out his final wish._

"_And you," he concluded, "are here to help me."_

_It was probably the determination in his eyes, or maybe the sheer sincerity in them, but Abram Michaels stood up straight and faced him directly._

"_What do you need me to do?" It sounded so strong that he thought it came out more of a command than a question._

_The colonel smiled slightly._

"But you'll notice I included the details of the lockdown that occurred at JFK international thirty days ago," Abram stated almost positively.

"I did see that," Jefferson noted curiously. "Exactly why was that?"

"When we saw the girl had disappeared from flight 232, we frantically double-checked all of the tapes and scans we performed the days before, and we found that we had checked every plane departing from Japan, but that we hadn't checked the planes resting there on a layover. Flight 138 from Shanghai to New York. We were able to identify it just as it landed at JFK, and the airport immediately went into lockdown."

"Did you find anything of interest?" McCoy narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Not necessarily. The entire thing went down without a hitch, no suspicious activity or persons at all. However, when we went to check the data and security cameras, the files were completely corrupted. The tapes only showed a few minutes before going static, even though the guards swore they were viewing them fine live. And as we rechecked Flight 232 from Tokyo International, we were able to verify her alias as 'Michi Nicholson.' But when I rechecked the database at JFK, it had no information under that name at all. The systems were completely wiped."

The colonel looked pleased and worried at the same time, but his stoic gaze didn't waver.

"Are you suggesting the employment of a third party on their side?" He asked warily.

"I find it unlikely that her group, which has disappeared from Okinawa as well, would have enough time or resources to completely wipe out two international airport databases of such specific information.

"I also think that it is a strong possibility that she is somewhere in the United States," Abram continued.

"As much as it leaves me ill at ease, I do, too." The colonel closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I doubt she is still in New York, but you never know with their kind. I believe that she is most likely with that third party right now."

A cold chill ran down Abram's back. "Do you think they are planning an attack?"

The colonel turned to Abram with a completely blank stare. It filled him with unease, and he could tell that his commander was contemplating something very serious, and something of which Abram was not aware. In fact, Abram was suddenly aware just how out of the loop he was.

"Although she is our number one priority, I do not believe she is a threat to us at this moment," the colonel said finally.

"Exactly…" Abram continued cautiously, "what do you mean by that?"

His mentor stood up and looked down at him, and the status shift wasn't lost on Abram.

"You may or may not have been informed that approximately thirteen months ago, the United States received verified reports that traces of chiropteran research were found in Egypt. The US designated it a somewhat small threat and set it aside"

Abram knew this.

"In reality, the task of dealing with the threat was left in my hands."

That was something that Abram certainly didn't know.

"How did you deal with it?" Abram asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I am just now beginning to," McCoy replied with a serene sort of smile. "Our entire team has been informed of the girl's connection to humans, through an organization called the Red Shield. She is powerless without them and, for the most part, they without her. However, the Red Shield's bountiful knowledge of eradicating chiropterans will prove useful."

Abram wasn't completely conscious of the fact that his body had risen from the chair or that he had started to ball his fists. He kept his face composed when he tried to make his next words sound as unassuming as possible.

"Are you saying that the Red Shield is going to take care of Egypt for us?"

McCoy smiled again. "I am just saying that it was awfully convenient of them to send the girl away the same time the entire organization evacuated Okinawa."

"They got a hold of the chiropteran reports in Egypt," Abram murmured aloud, deep in thought.

"Maybe it was leaked on purpose."

There was a very long pause between them, and the colonel's face was completely fearless, whereas Abram could feel that his own face was a mirror of the appalled and confused feeling running through him. There was no shame or disgrace on his mentor's face, and Abram realized he felt so confident in his decision to manipulate people that he honestly sensed no reason to be judged.

"_I need you to fight with me, Abram," Jefferson McCoy said powerfully. "I need to believe in this cause, and fight with us."_

_Abram saluted him, without any knowledge of any cliché it may resemble, and said intensely,_

"_I am honored to fight with you, Sir."_

To wait an entire year to handle what could become a major threat just for a chiropteran to wake up, to put your country on the line just to get a chance to eradicate a thing who may or may not threaten a human life again—

_No_, he thought to himself, shaking of the raised hairs on the back of his neck._ It was a choice made for a reason. There are some things that are left in top hands for a reason, and, this just has to be one of them. There is a reason for everything he does. A good reason._

"Our mission right now is to track _her_ down," McCoy said resolutely. "Egypt will work itself out."

"Sir," he started, regaining himself completely, "what do you suggest we do about the... girl?" Despite everything, he still disliked the thought of this terrible beast being a young woman.

"Saya," the colonel answered shortly.

"Excuse me?"

"The girl's name," he explained. "Her name is Saya."

"Saya," Abram repeated to himself.

"Just continue the normal tracking procedure and see if you can recover any information from the corrupted systems. We will have another meeting a month from now. Until then, get the team on tracking down that third party."

"Yes, sir." Abram said with a fake air of confidence behind those words.

They nodded to one another and Abram bowed his head slightly before turning around and heading for the door. He could no longer feel his commander's eyes burning a hole through the back of his head, and his boss's utter comfort with his entire plan left him ill at ease.

The colonel wasn't bothered at all with his decision to let a group of complete strangers handle the situation that could cause the next world war. It wasn't as though he didn't believe the Red Shield was capable of dealing with it—if anything the very few documents he was able to rustle up from the government archives made him want to employ them legally. No, it was the fact that thirty years after the Metropolitan Opera House exploded (the first and last officially documented report of hostile chiropteran behavior), his mentor and commander was willing to send the innocent members of Red Shield to face death eradicating a threat that they wouldn't have even been exposed to had McCoy done his job in the first place.

But this young girl… Saya… perhaps she really was the queen of chiropterans, and was as powerfully sinister as his leader believed.

It was best to leave these things in the colonel's hands, he reminded himself. Their primary objective was to keep the citizens of the United States safe and protected, free to live their lives as peacefully and blissfully ignorant as Abram suddenly wished himself to be.

"I do have one question, though," Abram declared as he twisted the doorknob to exit.

"Yes?" McCoy was holding a photograph he found in Abram's file in his left hand. From his side of the room, Abram could make out the beautiful sunset background framing to radiant figures facing the ocean. He recognized it as the photo he had recovered from Michi Nicholson's baggage one month ago in Hawaii.

"To eradicate Saya… is that your wish for your country, or your personal wish?"

McCoy was silent for a moment, but grinned and laughed genuinely at his subordinate.

"Both."

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: Well, there you go! I was really tempted to mash this chapter and the next chapter together, but they are just too different. I did post these chapters at the same time, but please leave me feedback on what you think about these new characters!


	10. Need Me

A/N: So many of you commented that you noticed a big change in Haji's personality from how he acts in the anime. Well, just to clarify, I DID THAT ON PURPOSE! There is a reason, I swear!

This chapter is mainly to sum up the feelings between Saya and Haji up to this point in the story, but there is quite a large mention of Solomon, as well.

So, be warned, SayaxSolomon lovers, this chapter involves lots of Haji and Saya lovin, but please read it anyway! It is essential to the plot! Enjoy! :D

Note: This takes place at the same time as the previous chapter. It is now October 31st, 2036.

--

Chapter 10: Need me

--Sex on the beach--

_Honey listen  
Don't make a big mistake  
I'm in your system  
You really can't escape  
When there's nobody to hold your hand  
Suddenly you're gonna understand_

_Don't you know  
You need me  
Don't you see  
Believe me  
Before you act so hastily  
Baby remember you need me_

_(Mariah Carey)_

--

The birds sat on the windows of the brilliant skyscrapers like they were trees, and sang their sweet melodies close to her window.

Saya wondered, as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, why they bothered coming up so high. She yawned and stood up from the bed slowly, and wondered somewhat wryly whether the birds would dare come up to the highest windows if they knew who, or what, dwelled inside.

She peered at the clock once she'd finished her morning grooming rituals and had dressed into some of the posh clothes that now made up her entire closet. They were comfortable, and the young queen was surprised to find that she enjoyed matching the sweaters and shirts and skirts together to suit her own personal taste.

Solomon once referred to her style as having_ "a sort of classy, beatnik quality to it."_ A compliment, definitely. _"Very chic. I like it."_

The clock read 7:55 am. Saya sighed to herself. Things between her and Solomon had been… odd since the night they'd gone exploring the city. It was as though, after that night, it suddenly sunk in to both of them exactly what was going on. In the first forty-eight hours around each other, they were probably too stunned with the sudden re-introduction to actually _realize_ who they were talking to. The morning after that night, she woke up with all of the memories of him fresh in her head, and he reacted with the same sort of hesitance she held herself with.

She supposed that it really had to happen eventually, that they would realize that their connection to one another was based off of war and misplaced affection. But that they were handling it the best they could didn't really help the fact that the past thirty days had been _UNBELIEVABLY AWKWARD._

Saya found herself getting up early, just after Solomon normally left for work in a town called Delmar, simply to be tired enough to go to bed earlier and avoid more nights and more interaction. She was extremely grateful that he seemed to feel the same way about their relationship, and followed suit and avoided her. It was a pleasant surprised that he continued his job as though nothing in his personal life had changed, as she'd feared he'd take his guardianship of the red queen so serious that he'd devote extra attention and time to her. She assumed that that's what the Red Shield had in mind, but he kept on going the way she presumed he usually did; leaving at 7 in the morning to his office (which he said was about thirty minutes southeast from their present location, and where he described was _"in the middle of absolutely nowhere,")_ and returning a little before five in the evening.

It was funny, though, that their newfound understanding of the current situation didn't stop him from taking her out to dinner or ordering in with her every night. Saya wondered whether Solomon had something against home-cooked food, not that he ever ate much regardless. Solomon ate about as much as one would have expected from a woman of Saya's size, whereas she ate as much for a man about double Solomon's weight. But it was probably a matter of personal preference; even though he wouldn't have been cooking, as he once off-handedly expressed a suspicious hatred for it, he probably wouldn't care for the strange mix of Okinawan-American-Italian food she prepared for herself when he wasn't there.

Saya sipped orange juice and stared at the empty island counter in the middle of the kitchen. Sometimes he left a note, but this was one of the days where he didn't. She imagined that this must be how college boarders feel when they rent a room from a family close to their school. Friendly enough to your host, but the most appealing part of your stay is the open fridge and empty room.

It wasn't as though she didn't enjoy staying with her blonde chevalier—on the contrary, she was actually enjoying herself, for the most part. He was friendly, charming, and uncommonly accommodating. Once they fell into deep conversation, the hours would fly by. It was just that those sort of times where they got so wrapped up in each other's company were so rare, that all that normally registered was the uncomfortable silence that forced them to quietly come to terms with the many loose ends left between them from just over thirty years ago.

Sometimes, after they returned from dinner, or after they finished eating the take-out they ordered up, she'd catch herself staring at him, or she'd see him gazing contemplatively in her direction when she turned her back to walk away, and they would always turn around just in time to see the guilty party's face redden at the idea of being caught gawking.

But Solomon always looked so put together, and Saya knew that her face was always a shade darker after he looked at her.

It was just such a stupid idea to begin with. Who in their right mind would come up with a plan to protect their sister, friend, lover, or _whatever_, by sending them to cohabitate with a man who had on several occasions tried to kill, manipulate, sway, kidnap, and even propose to her?

Saya didn't feel any malice towards him for his actions in that war all those years ago; when it all came down to it, he was a valuable comrade to the very end. David had even told her, before the first Red Shield ship was destroyed by Diva and Carl, that it was Solomon Goldsmith who tipped them off to the upcoming attack. She didn't realize until much later exactly what that meant.

She couldn't help but feel guilty for her presence in his life, though. She just felt so sorry for him, knowing full well that you could give up everything and still mean nothing to the woman you love. And worse—to have your devotion tested to the max—by having to protect the queen you've dedicated your immortal heart while she rests contently waiting for her valiant first chevalier and fiancé to return from the heat of battle and leave without a second glance.

It just felt so… unfair to him.

Then again, he didn't treat her any differently than he seemed to treat other women. Apart from keeping up their false romance, he regarded her the same way he did everyone else. And, for a reason Saya couldn't identify, the thought that Solomon might not be in love with her left a weird feeling in her throat.

But as much as the young woman tried to piece together her awkward but friendly relationship with Solomon, her mind continued to return back to Haji. The uncomfortable air surrounding her and Solomon was just a constant reminder of her bond to her amazingly beautiful fiancé. The slightly awkward atmosphere almost perfectly mirrored the feeling shared between her and Haji for the first few weeks after she had awakened.

--

Haji…

They had never been able to define their relationship in words. It was just…there. It was so tangible, so obvious to them that it never needed clear definition. Perhaps if they were fully chiropteran, in mind, body, and spirit, it would have been a seamless transition from chevalier to lover, but Saya and Haji were both so human in nature that it was difficult to establish a clear connection.

About two weeks before Haji proposed, Saya was able to put her finger on what seemed so out of place in her perfect world.

She was simply, too many people.

To Kai, she was a little sister whose optimism outshined George's. To David and the Red Shield she would always be the protector and guardian of the human race. And to her nieces she was the doting older sister she'd always tried to be with Riku. Her personality and outlook moved seamlessly between traits her family until she met the most important member at the end of the line.

She was everything and nothing when she was with Haji. Saya was merely Saya when he held her in his arms, and they were their own happy, little world. But Haji knew better than anyone Saya's dependence on humans. He'd left her alone without his blood for an entire year in Okinawa, and she would always retain those human qualities that she acquired within that time, and those tendencies that urged her to be close with humans again.

Saya was lounging on the warm beach sand with her head in his lap as Haji sat propped against one of the large rocks adorning the sunny landscape. He was reading aloud softly as she dozed in and out of the story. The two lovers spent most of their free time not spent with Kai and the others on the beach, or on deserted rooftops, or many of the other secluded spots they managed to find in Okinawa.

Their awkward readjustment up until that point had actually been kind of charming. They would sometimes find themselves lapsing back into their master-servant relationship one minute, only to act completely loving to each other the next. Sometimes they registered the oddness of holding hands publicly or without any other reason than to be near each other, and laughed together openly about how stupid they were being when they hesitated like that.

The sun was going down, but he continued reading in the dark, his eyes a million times better than any humans'. Kai was used to them disappearing for nights at a time, so Saya continued to snuggle deep into his lap until the book in his hand was resting on her back nestled into his chest. He set the book down, and found a more useful purpose for his hands.

He slid one arm around her waist while his other hand played with her hair. Haji leaned his head down as he pulled his tiny queen up cheek to cheek. The beach was always deserted by this time, and Saya knew he was always more affectionate when they were completely alone for the night.

"Are you getting cold, Saya?" He asked. She was nuzzling her face against his now-perfect right hand and kissing it softly, but his velvety voice made her glance up.

"I'm just perfect, Haji," she sighed contently into his chest. She leaned in closer after breathing in his scent, and he leaned back until she was lying on top of him with his back in the sand.

The waves lapping up against the sand a few feet away was perfect accompaniment. The crescent moon high in the sky pushed and pulled the water at the same time Haji's chest dipped and rose with his slow, even breaths.

"I'm sorry if things have been weird lately, Haji," Saya murmured into his neck. She knew how long he'd waited to finally be able to hold her freely in his arms. She couldn't help but feel a little bad that things were uncomfortable now that he was able to.

Instead of disputing it or trying to qualm her fear, he responded simply,

"Time means nothing when I have you with me."

She sat up to look down at him fondly as she straddled his waist.

"I love you, Haji."

He smiled. "I have always loved you, Saya."

Saya bent forward to kiss him softly on the lips. Haji laid there silently and let her entwine her fingers with his as she gently pinned his arms to the sand.

At this point she normally went for his neck and the blood that was slowing pumping under it, but her mouth on his forced him to respond before he could unbutton his shirt for her. He seemed to appreciate the gesture. His soft lips traced the elegant line of her jaw, and he sat up when she pulled back. Saya allowed him to slowly slip her into the ground. He caressed her bare arms and nuzzled her neck until she found herself on her back, Haji leaning forward, kissing her collarbone tenderly. Her body arched as he slid an elegant arm between her and the sand and pulled her into his chest.

She loved it when he took control like this—a break in his mask of indifference. She loved feeling his primal instincts as he crushed her to him, the feeling of his normally slow heartbeat quicken as hers sped up to match. Her mind was always so muddled with war and conflict that it seemed as though only Haji's throbbing pulse and quiet moans of pleasure could make her feel clear again.

Saya unbuttoned his shirt, and the stars gave his pale skin an ethereal glow. Her angel continued his enthusiastic line of kisses down her chest, eventually reaching lace and silk. Haji hesitated, but Saya guided his hands to the ties of her dress, and with her permission he immediately slid it over her head and tossed it lightly to the sand behind them.

Saya needed something to bring them back to their simple relationship during the war. It had been the only thing that made sense, the two of them existing together. And watching him look at her naked form under him let her mind relax. Almost completely naked on top of her, he was so bare, so pure, and it reminded her of another time, of skinny dips in the lake at the Zoo in France and bashfully lustful feelings when they saw each other. She loved him, and she _wanted _him. And Haji loved her, and wanted her, every bit of her; the good, the bad, the beautiful, the ugly. He accepted her for everything she ever was, and she wanted to let him have her.

--

She remembered cozying up into his arms as he nuzzled her neck afterwards, but Saya couldn't recall how long it was before they made it back to the Omoro. Maybe days later.

After that, their relationship seemed to work itself out. Whenever they were alone, they returned to that time on the beach where everything made sense and they simply belonged to each other. Haji proposed a few weeks later, and Saya accepted tearfully, happily embracing a future where it would just be them, again, forever. And it had been for the best, Saya had thought; because humans, and mortal problems that they wouldn't even remember in a hundred years, would no longer distract her. She knew that wasn't Haji's exact thinking, but she was glad that everything was going according to that happy plan.

But Haji was not about to let her run away. He would do whatever she wished, and deep down she knew he was right when he told her that she didn't want to leave humans behind. Saya had spent her entire life protecting them from the dangers they couldn't see—she wanted to see them grow, and laugh, and smile, and evolve into the beautiful beings she always knew were worth saving from chiropterans.

And Haji loved them, too. He loved Kai, and Julia, and Lulu; all of the people that helped him remind her why life was worth living, and protected her when he was unable to. Even though he would be content with just her for eternity, he didn't want to be, and Haji knew that Saya would not be the same Saya he fell in love with if she was away from them.

But why couldn't it just be like the beach all the time? It was so perfect when it was just Saya and Haji, a queen and her chevalier, but whenever they were with humans, their status changed. At first, she thought it was just him, adjusting himself to their guests or to the strangers walking beside them the way any normal boyfriend would. He would be just slightly possessive, a little more attentive, and the grip on her waist or hand would tighten. Saya actually found it cute, a charming little. But she soon realized that he wasn't doing it for himself, he was doing it for _her._

Saya would also change when she was with humans, and Haji was just trying to include the relationship he knew she craved from him in all aspects of her life, something she always thought would happen naturally but never seemed to. When Saya was with humans, she was never sure exactly where Haji fit in.

And now that she was living in a neutral place, in New York, far from her quiet Okinawan sanctuary, she realized that the reason she was so uneasy with Haji was because their love was a love that could not exist in the human world.

They were trying. They were trying _so hard_ to make something work that just… couldn't. Haji was her knight, her best friend, her beautiful rock to cling to when the pressures of the world felt like a river trying to drown her. But her life with humans had been perfect before Haji, and her life with Haji seemed perfect without humans.

They loved each other. They existed for each other. The two of them had practically created each other. They would still end up marrying each other, and she would still fall asleep in his arms, and they would always mean the world to one another, but they would never have that ideal relationship they had expected.

And that's why she was here now. She was staying far away from him so that she would have time to stay safe, and to think. Maybe more of the latter. Her beloved Haji wanted her to step outside of the chaos that was always her life and come to the inevitable conclusions he had already realized.

And she would deal with that—Saya could _definitely_ deal with that. An eternity with your best friend and comrade? That would be absolute bliss! What good had romantic love ever done for her, anyway? Love is love, regardless, and life with Haji would be ideal once he and the Red Shield returned safely from the Middle East.

But still…

Why did this have to be with _Solomon_?

Why did Haji have to back the Red Shield when they suggested Solomon's residence as the perfect hideout? Sure it was safe, the safest she'd probably ever be, but she was a monster, Saya recognized that. She could protect herself! Just give her a sword and the keys to a cheap flat in Mexico and she'd be set!

Saya shook the thoughts out her head. Right now she should be figuring out how to ride the waves, not make them, and the easiest way to do that was to _stop thinking about Solomon_.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the window as she opened the kitchen curtains to let in the morning sun. Saya was still having trouble adjusting to seeing herself with longer hair whenever she looked in a mirror. Ever since she'd woken up from her first long sleep, she'd cut it shorter at every chance. She loved the stark contrast of the short, spiky hairs flipping from her forehead and neck gave from the long elegant hairdos she used to wear. She had decided to leave them all behind when she and Haji trekked seriously for Diva.

Leave it behind…

But she was so settled and comfortable with short hair that leaving it long made her feel as though she was trying to leave her life up to this point behind. And that was the exact _opposite_ of what she wanted. She wanted things to stay the same, like before. Like with Haji.

So she found a pair of scissors in the kitchen drawer, went into the bathroom, and started cutting.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: Yep, so Haji and Saya totally had sex all the time. Oh, face it, after that long? Yeah, they went at it like rabbits.

But poor Saya and Haji…their queen and chevalier romance can't exist in the human world they insist on living in. So sad…But oh well! That's not to say _other_ romances won't flourish…

So please, please, PLEASE review! I would love to get some feedback! Hint: I write faster when I know people are reading. :D


	11. Play with Me

A/N: Hello there, happy readers! I felt a little bad sending you off last time with two random chapters that, although necessary to the plot, were probably a little boring. Plus they didn't have nearly enough Solomon in them.

Anywho! This chapter pretty much ties everything together from the last few chapters. Please enjoy it!

--

Chapter 11: Play with me

-Party-

_Don't need to cage me,  
to close all the doors,  
as long as you need me  
I will always be yours.  
Play with me  
Play with me_

I know that you need me.  
I know that you care.  
You know that I may not love you but,  
I will always be there.

_(The Cure)_

--

"You can give it to me straight, Solomon; I know it looks awful."

Solomon pursed his lips and cocked his head. His pleasant face was contemplative, but his smile looked forced. Saya had trouble meeting his eyes.

"I just…" He struggled with the words as he stepped forward to touch the uneven, spiky black hairs protruding from her head. "I don't understand why you tried to do it yourself."

"It looked even when it was wet, so I tried to cut some layers in," she defended.

Solomon turned her head gently from right to left with the tips of his fingers.

"Well, I see some layers on this side, but the other side just looks sort of…"

"What?"

He regarded her for a moment. "Would you consider 'haystack-esque' an insult?"

"Yes." Saya glared at him.

"Then, let's just say that if you had done any _more,_ your hair would look rather haystack-esque."

"Nice save."

"Well, I do try…" He trailed off as he lifted her chin and observed the damage she'd done to her bottom layers.

Solomon pulled a lock of his hair away from his face an observed its length, and took a piece of Saya's in his other hand and eyed it suspiciously. He stood there for a moment, comparing the two, before shaking his head, defeated. Still, he looked back at her face and attempted a convincing smile.

"It looks nice," he said. Saya compared the length of the bottom layers on her right side to her left, and rolled her eyes at him.

"Honestly," he put his hand on her shoulder as she turned to lean on the countertop, "considering you just sort of went at it—"

"Oh, as if you've never cut your own hair!" Saya snapped, halfheartedly shrugging off his hand. Normally she wouldn't have felt so self-conscious, but having it come from Solomon, probably one of the handsomest men on the planet, she was embarrassed.

"I always cut my own hair," he announced aloofly as he tried to fluff her hair out. Solomon smiled and pushed some of the stray pieces out of her eyes as she gave him a suspicious pout.

"Now, come on," he continued, laughing, "There's a salon just down the street. They'll be able to…fix it, for you."

He slid his arm around her shoulder, not trying to contain his smile when he rustled her hair playfully. Saya groaned at him and he laughed.

"We'll grab some dinner afterwards, alright?" He pulled her towards the door, but her feet stayed planted to the ground. Solomon's bright blue eyes stared at her quizzically.

"I am not going out of the house looking like this."

He looked her up and down, which left her face feeling a little red.

"Why? You look beautiful."

Saya pointed at her hair obviously.

"Oh, please." This time he rolled his eyes. Her blonde chevalier slid her arm around his and pulled her to the door. "The only reason I noticed is become I'm vain and over-observant. You look fantastic." He locked the door behind them.

"Umm, thank you." Saya responded awkwardly as they stepped into the elevator. He didn't seem to notice her hesitation.

"You're welcome, Saya."

While they were in the elevator, she was surprised to find herself avoiding uncomfortable silence by reaching up and touching a tendril of his hair. She thought he would flinch away, but he just stood there and blinked expectantly down at her as she observed the wavy, golden hair in her hand.

"Impressive," Saya mused, as it bobbed back into place when he unraveled it from her fingers.

"Thank you." Solomon slid his arm around her waist like he always did as soon as they stepped out of the elevator, and the lobby was less crowded that usual. "No stylist can ever get it right. It's taken me years of practice.

"Years and years, and years and years and years," he muttered thoughtlessly.

Saya briefly recalled that it was the black Porsche for tonight, before stepping into it. He had once alluded that it was the least expensive car he owned. She was personally a fan of the bright red Rolls Royce she'd seen when he gave her a tour of his private garage under the building. You could get right to the garage and his parking space from the fire escape, rather than going down through the elevator and into the parking garage from the back doors by in the normal elevators, but when she asked why he bothered with the valets in the first place, and he just shrugged. She laughed, because she knew it was his subtle way of showing off.

They arrived at a very posh looking salon after driving for only about five minutes. When they'd left the apartment building, Solomon had gotten quiet, but as soon as he opened his car door, he placed one foot out and his body went absolutely rigid. Saya stared at him for a moment, but when he said nothing, she hopped out of the car and met him, still half sitting, on the other side.

"Solomon?" She asked slowly. "Are you okay?"

He glanced up at her blankly, before turning his gaze towards the fancy building. Solomon didn't look angry, but he looked almost shocked. He looked up at her once again before rising to meet her.

"Yes, I just…" Solomon looked at the building again and started walking towards it. "I remembered something that I thought I had forgotten."

"Ahh, I see." Saya feigned understanding. He looked almost in a daze as he led her inside.

A woman with short, flaming red hair behind the small desk took one look at Saya's handsome companion and smiled widely. Saya was used to that by now. It was almost empty inside, and by the look of her flapper-style 20s hairdo, this was a stylist waiting for her next customer. She stared at Saya for a moment.

"I'll go out on a limb and assume it's you that needs a haircut."

Saya winced, but smiled and nodded. _Cheeky_, she thought. _Perfect_.

Solomon, who up until this point hadn't touched her, rested his hand on the small of her back and nudged her forward after they exchanged pleasantries with the beautiful stylist. He smiled and told her he'd be waiting right there for when she was done. As the woman led her away, Saya noticed her and Solomon share what seemed like a look of understanding.

The stylist evaluated the damage after washing her hair in overly fragrant shampoos. She combed it over and flipped it from side to side before shaking her head in disgust.

"I see you tried to cut it yourself." Her voice was light and airy. Saya tried to laugh it off.

"I guess it wasn't my finest hour."

"Obviously," the stylist murmured. She pulled out a razor and started gliding it along the jagged edges of her hair before Saya could specify her preference.

"You're hair is about shoulder length, right?" Saya nodded at her question.

"Or, it _was,_ I guess. A blunt cut like that will make your face look too long. You need layers that frame your face from your cheekbones down to the nape of your neck."

"Okay…"

"Luckily, you left me just enough hair to do that. It's funny, huh? Even if that style didn't look good, you would have ended up with it anyway! That's funny, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Saya answered nervously, the razor swinging rapidly around her ears. "That's hilarious…"

"Have you ever dyed your hair? This looks like your original color."

"It is. I've never colored it."

She leaned close to Saya's ear and giggled over her shoulder as she finished evening it up.

"Ohhh, _virgin_ hair. It's sooo soft, I don't want to cut it. I just knew it was _different_ than everyone else's hair."

Saya's burgundy eyes found Solomon sitting in the foyer, absent-mindedly flipping through a magazine. He looked up after she stared at him for a few seconds, and she mouthed silently, _'help me.'_

The woman had lost a finishing comb and went to rifle around in different drawers to find one.

'_What?_' he mouthed back.

Saya looked around for her quickly.

'_She's crazy!_'

Just as she returned to over-affectionately comb through the queen's hair, Solomon came up and said smoothly,

"Good job." It had a slight edge to it.

"It's like a shag, but less rough," she explained, more to him than to Saya. "When I dry it, it'll look way smoother."

"Actually, I'm afraid we'll have to _cut_ this short." Solomon looked at the woman with his most charming smile. "We have dinner reservations downtown, and we're already late."

"But it's already getting cold outside. At least let me dry it for you, honey, you could catch a cold if you went around with wet hair."

"I'm fine," Saya told her. "But thank you." When she looked up, she noticed the woman was looking at Solomon, not at her.

"You're right," she relented, shrugging with mock disappointment. "I suppose _she'll_ be alright. Especially if she has a guy like you to keep her warm."

Solomon's eyes flashed the woman a warning look.

He took Saya's hand and lifted her from the chair just as she began untying the bathrobe-like smock designed to keep the hair off of her clothes. Saya looked in the mirror as the woman tsk'ed and dusted the loose hair from her shoulders.

"It really does look great." She smiled at her stylist. "Thank you."

She looked at Saya for a moment before Solomon led her towards the door.

"Oh, the pleasure was all mine, dear. Take care now."

The odd tone in her voice ran a chill down Saya's spine, and she turned to look at her again. Her flaming red hair seemed to float up and down as she breathed, and she looked as though she was about to speak again, but Solomon placed a handful of bills firmly in the woman's expectant hand.

"Keep it," he said shortly. He turned to his queen. "Let's go."

Solomon took her by the arm and practically stormed out of the salon. Saya seemed to be more affected by his dark words than the actual offender, who continued smiling after they'd left. By the time she got back to the car, Solomon's body was still stiffened, but his personality was back to normal.

"She was…interesting." Saya looked at him as he drove away from the plaza, but he didn't look back at her when he answered.

"I absolutely despise that woman," he said. He shook his head and his blonde bangs swung across his brow.

"You knew her?"

"She did a favor for me a few years ago. Ever since then, she has made herself an extremely unwelcome and bothersome component of my life."

Saya wasn't sure what to say, so she said nothing.

"She can cut hair, though. I swear, it looks amazing." He turned his head to smile at her, and she was happy that he didn't seem to think of_ her_ as an extremely unwelcome and bothersome component of his life.

At least she hoped not.

"Does it really? It feels weird having it sort of in between, but I like it shorter like this." She touched the tips of her freshly cut ends and smiled.

"I like your hair shorter, too. I think it suits you better." He was still looking at her.

"Really?" Saya was mostly surprised because she knew that Haji utterly adored it longer.

"I may just be biased, though, because I met you when you had short hair. So whenever I think of you, I picture you like that in my head."

It wasn't even dark yet when she looked outside, and she would have been glad to have the night cover up her reddening cheeks. She cursed herself inwardly—she knew that just because everything he said sounded like a compliment, it didn't make it flattery. Solomon just spoke that way to everybody. But she couldn't help herself from smiling whenever he spoke to her with that tone.

Dinner was delicious, of course. It always was. She briefly wondered how someone with no need to eat would know where to get the best food, but she figured that he probably ate out all the time with his coworkers and subordinates. This restaurant was on the other side of town that he'd only taken her to once or twice, so they decided to walk around for a while before returning to his apartment. They walked slowly, side by side without touching. The air was nice and cool, and the sun was just about to set in the pinkish sky. They made their way into a residential neighborhood, and they took advantage of the happy atmosphere to try and actually get to know each other.

"So," Saya began. "What exactly do you do, Solomon?"

"As a career?"

"Yes."

Solomon eyed her jokingly. "You mean besides my position in the Mafia? I'll have to inform the men that you've become suspicious."

"You're not Italian," she countered jokingly. "Plus, I've seen that old movie. The Godfather. I've never seen you smoking cigars."

"Clever, clever. Good criteria. I actually work as a translator."

"A translator?" She was expecting something a little more common. Then again, Solomon wasn't exactly known for staying out of the spotlight.

"Officially a linguist for the CIA," he elaborated. "Its headquarters is in Washington DC, obviously, but its networks are spaced out all over New England. The office in Delmar is actually the center of operations for translating documents directly. I started working there about five years ago deciphering intercepted papers and letters. I was promoted almost immediately after the previous director was promoted."

"You work for the CIA?" Saya looked at him incredulously.

"I like to have ears all around," he explained with a smile, giving her a sly, knowing look. "It's hard not to hear things when you have connections in all of the right places." He had obviously planned out everything perfectly. What better job could the most dangerous being alive have besides one that had you working in the belly of the beast? Solomon opened his mouth to continue, but three children scampered by them excitedly, making him lose focus.

"Speaking of ears…" Saya started, watching a few more kids run past them. "Why are all of these kids dressed up in costume?" She was staring at one boy in particular, whose dragon helmet had spiky ears extending where his real ones would have been.

"Didn't you know? It's October 31st." Solomon smiled as he looked around the neighborhood, kids and their parents looking silly, going from door to door and laughing. She failed to see the significance of that fact, and he looked at her for a moment before enlightening her further.

"October 31st? You know, _Halloween_?" He tried to elucidate, but she just stared at him blankly. Her whole life, Saya had sort of skipped holidays, especially ones like these, and even though Kai and Kaori and Riku had mentioned it briefly, she neither came from a region that celebrated it, nor had ever had any reason to want to. He just stared at her expectantly.

"Are people still celebrating that?" she asked cooly.

"Celebrating holidays, especially ones like this made a huge comeback after the third world war," he informed her. Her pleasant companion seemed generally upbeat as they entered the liveliest parts of the block. Even though they were still in an upper-class neighborhood, there seemed to be parties in almost every house they strolled by.

"Patriotism as a whole made a fanatical reappearance after America and its allies emerged victorious against the Middle Eastern nations in 2012. You probably would have fallen asleep just before it started, right? For the best, really: by the beginning of 2013, everyone in America was celebrating their success. Every party and holiday became twice as extravagant, and each time one comes by, it's almost like cultural heritage. Halloween is especially popular now; it's one of the few things fun for every age group.

"Of course, I never celebrate it myself. A man I work with throws parties for this kind of stuff, though. Maybe we should go," he mused. "I'm sure we could make quite convincing vampires."

A few more children ran past them, but one strayed and stopped right in front of their path. The little boy just stood there, looking up at them in amazement. They stopped walking and stared back. He was dressed like a pirate; probably a knock-off from a movie she'd never seen. The little pirate kept gawking up at them until Saya smiled widely, letting all of her teeth show, and her sharp incisors extended.

"Nice costume," she said in a low, seductive voice. The boy's eyes widened in shock and he ran to rejoin his friends. She heard a stifled chuckle coming from next to her, and looked up to see Solomon trying not to laugh.

"That boy is going to spend the rest of the night trying to convince his friends that the young couple that just walked by are really blood-sucking monsters." He laughed as they resumed walking. "That was absolutely priceless."

"Now I'm responsible for the counseling I know he'll need later in life," she added melodramatically. It was so easy to joke with him. "Now I'll have that on my conscious."

"So unfortunate …" Solomon sighed.

"So why don't you celebrate Halloween, Solomon?" Saya asked. "It looks like it could be a lot of fun."

"I suppose I never really saw the point," he said thoughtfully. "I get an invitation to holiday parties and the like every year, but I've only ever attended a handful of them. I guess I just found them kind of boring. It's fun for a while, but I merely think parties like that a little lonely."

His face remained the same, but his voice sounded a little sad. Saya tried to lighten the mood again.

"So you don't like parties because you don't have anybody to play with?"

"I guess I just have to be in the right company," Solomon laughed.

"Missing all of their parties, your friends probably think you don't like them." She reconsidered, Solomon liked _everybody_. "Or maybe that you're a real vampire."

"If I were a real vampire, then I would always go to their parties. They start when it's dark and last until dawn most of the time, anyway." He smiled and said almost proudly, "and they're always pressuring me to go because they think I'm a shut-in, not a leech."

Saya skipped ahead of him and stopped to face her companion. The thought of Solomon as a recluse didn't sit right with her. This was the man who ditched his own chevalier brethren to crash a gala at her all-girls Vietnamese boarding school. She'd always pictured him the hit of the party, even if he was just walking down the street. People gravitated towards him without even meaning to, and his handsome features and brilliant smile were accommodating enough to make even the shyest person outgoing in his presence. Everyone just seemed to at-ease with him around, including herself.

"Then let's go," she smiled. "Come on, I'll play with you." She knew that he really did want to go; when he mentioned the party earlier, she caught him giving her a calculating once over, like he was testing the waters. When she didn't reply positively, he had probably just let it go.

"Really?" Solomon sounded surprised and looked down at her. "You want to go?"

"Oh! Umm, I just…" Saya trailed off and felt like a deer caught in headlights. She could feel her face flushing red. She didn't mean to make it sound like she was inviting herself, though perhaps that was why he was so surprised?

"I-I thought you wanted to go, and if you did, than I thought you wanted me to go, because it would be fun if it was the two of us, but if you don't want—"

Solomon grabbed her hands and left only a foot or so between them. There was a happy glint in his normally serene eyes.

"I do! That would be fantastic!" She had never heard that tone in his voice before. He sounded like a little kid, excited for his birthday. "I think it would be a lot of fun if you came with me. Let's go."

He kept hold of her right hand and lead her back to the car.

"Right now?" She never knew Solomon could be so sporadic. He stopped and thought for a moment, his head tilting upwards like it always did when he was contemplating something.

"Well, it starts at around 9 this evening, I think," he pondered aloud. More people came their way and he pulled her closer without thinking. He glanced at his watch. "I'm pretty sure that's what he told me. But of course we'll arrive fashionably late. It's almost seven now, and it will take us about an hour to get there. What do you think? Think we can make believable vampires in about two hours?"

"How elaborate do you think we have to be?"

"Very?" He seemed nervous to admit it. Saya wasn't really surprised. Based on what he'd shown her in their short time together, she knew he never did anything half-assed.

"Even better," she laughed. He smiled and laughed along with her, and she had to almost jog to keep up with his excited pace.

Once they were back in the car, they decided to drive around the city until they found a store that sold what they were looking for. The one drawback with Solomon was that he was unbelievably picky; if it looked the least bit cheap, he didn't bother stopping. And of course, his definition of 'cheap' meant that if anyone with a normal salary could afford it, it wasn't suitable. It was Saya that was able to locate the posh-looking, avant-garde boutique nestled between a coffee shop and a tiny ballet studio. He eyed it suspiciously, but it was in the district close to his apartment, so he didn't put up a fight when she commanded that he pull over.

The laid-back man at the counter nodded to them lazily before turning back to his magazine. His eyebrow and nose rings glistened as the last traces of sun disappeared behind the tall building, and Saya pulled the still-reluctant Solomon to the first of many gothic-looking racks in the rear of the store.

"See? I knew it; this is perfect," Saya exclaimed happily. "There are stores like this all over Okinawa. The twins practically live for this stuff."

He looked like he was about to make a snarky reply, but she held a ruffled white shirt to his chest before he could speak. He held it as she went rifling through another rack full of coats, eventually pulling out a vintage looking black tuxedo jacket, complete with coattails and pointed collar.

"Saya…" Solomon's voice was quiet, and his tone was gentle, but nervous. "Are you sure that _this_ is really what you were thinking of?"

She didn't bother looking at him.

"You did say vampires, right?"

"I did."

"And do you want to look good?"

"Well, yes, but I don't really think we are thinking of the same…"

She looked at him with an amused expression, but said in a wispy, casual voice,

"Solomon, I've been drinking blood since before you were born. I think I know what I'm talking about in regards to what people think vampires look like."

He regarded her for a moment with an aloof smirk before looking around the high-class consignment boutique. She could tell he wasn't used to shopping off the rack, but he seemed to like the change of pace.

"Okay," he grinned triumphantly. "Alright. You finish looking for my costume, and I," he handed the shirt and jacket back to her, "will go finish yours."

"Huh?" She stood there flabbergasted, holding the clothes to her chest.

"Keep up the good work," he sang as he walked to the other side of the shop, where some indie looking mannequins were dressed in evening gowns from a time period she couldn't specify.

It took her about thirty minutes to find everything she thought would finish off the vampire look. She did have a hard time sizing him, though, so she ended up grabbing handfuls of everything suitable and made her way over to him. He was rifling through some of the jewelry shelves near the front of the store when he looked up at her.

"How tall are you, Solomon?"

"Hmmm." He held ruby earrings up to her earlobes. "About five foot ten."

"Okay, then," Saya said confidently. She'd guessed about right. "Trade you."

He handed her a hanger. Along the top hung several pieces of jewelry, and she saw a lot of lace adorning the rest. He made no comment as she gave him his costume, but he seemed amused. He slipped into the fitting room next to hers to try it on.

In all honesty, Saya'd had no idea she would find herself being so casual with him, having so much _fun_ with him. Maybe they could learn to be genuine friends for as long as she had to stay with him, though the thought of eventually leaving abruptly again to return home made her very sad. But she pushed those thoughts out of her head; tonight was going to be delightful, and the idea of Solomon going along with her plan just to show her off at a party made her smile widely.

It was a pretty good costume, actually. His good taste didn't seem to be limited to every day and evening wear. A deep, blood red dress with a plunging neckline that was actually more flattering than she thought, with opera length black lace gloves that matched the stockings she grabbed before heading in. There were lacey details all over the gown, including a stiff collar that stood up along the back of her neck. It was probably couture. She put on the jewelry, and commented to herself that he somehow managed to find the most expensive items in the building. She tied the corset in the back the best she could before stepping outside.

Solomon was already done when she finished, and Saya stood in the doorway for a few moments, watching him regard himself in a full-length mirror. She promptly admired herself for her excellent taste as he adjusted the ruffled cravat she'd picked out for him. A black tuxedo with a red vest—classic vampire, flawless against his fair features. She wasn't sure exactly how she'd found the long cape with a high collar lined with blood red silk, but she couldn't deny that he pulled it off startlingly well.

"You make a good vampire," she remarked as she adjusted the ruby lace chocker around her neck.

Solomon turned around and smiled when he caught sight of her. She struck a pose against the doorframe and let her leg slip out of the small slit in the side of her dress. Her red pumps clicked happily when she walked towards him.

"Have you lost weight?" He adjusted the strap of her dress without a second thought, oblivious of the effect his touch had on her bare skin. He didn't say it as a compliment, more of a concern. "This is such a small size already; you should eat more."

"Have you _seen_ me eat?" She turned around and nodded toward the lacings on the back of her gown so he could adjust it for her. "I eat like a horse."

Solomon tightened it like a professional and as he tied it, whispered in her ear,

"Perhaps you should be _eating_ a little more of something else, then."

When she turned around, surprised, he pinned a hairclip in her hair and smiled. She looked at it in the mirror, and it looked like an antique brooch adorned with red roses altered into a hairpin with a tiny veil.

"So beautiful," Solomon said dreamily. Saya repeated to herself that he was talking about the pin.

"Oh, we'd better get going," he stated abruptly. When she started towards the dressing room to change back, he took her hand and told her not to bother, to just grab her clothes and they'd just wear their costumes from this point.

"He's been eyeing us this whole time, anyway," Solomon continued. It hadn't occurred to her until them that none of their clothes had prices on them. "I'm sure he's tallying it all up in his head."

Sure enough, all Solomon had to do was hand him the platinum card and it rang up automatically. He didn't take special notice to their questionable attire, to Saya's surprise, but he looked up at her and she could she from his own…interesting wardrobe that he wasn't really in a position to comment. Her chevalier didn't seem to like the way the pierced man was eyeing her and her low neckline, though, and took a discreet protective hold of her waist when he handed the card back to him. However, instead of releasing her when they were outside, he continued to grip her hip tenderly.

The car clock said that it was almost eight-thirty. They were going straight from the boutique to North Adams, which he explained was technically in Massachusetts. He went on and on about how ridiculous his friend was for not just moving closer to work to avoid the commute every day _('I mean, it would_ _be different for me, I actually _enjoy_ driving, but if you ever get him started…_'), and she couldn't keep her eyes off of him. He really was handsome, even in the Halloween garb she'd forced him into. But looking at him, she did realize something was off.

"You're too pretty," Saya declared bluntly.

He blinked a few times. "…Excuse me?"

"You're too pretty," she reaffirmed. "You aren't dark enough to be convincing."

"As a vampire?" He attempted to clarify.

"Yes."

She was looking in the fold down vanity mirror applying a thick line of eyeliner along her upper lid and flipped it out at the end. He eyed her from the corner of his left eye when she didn't elaborate, and kept his eye on her as she began applying from of the red lipstick she'd haphazardly thrown into her purse. He finally said something when she began brushing her face with baby powder.

"Why, exactly, are you doing dusting your face with talcum powder?"

"Look," she faced him and smiled. "It gives you a weird sort of glow, huh? When I was in school, I was completely useless, so they stuck me in the back doing make-up during the cultural arts festival. I think they were doing a tribute to Hamlet, and we had to make people look like they were dead."

"That's actually very clever," Solomon congratulated. "But, why do you carry it with you?"

"Habit, I guess," Saya released after a minute of thought. "I used to carry some with me all the time when I was fighting; talcum powder kept my hands dry when I had to carry my sword around." She smiled.

"I don't carry a sword around anymore, obviously. But I guess habits like that calm my nerves. Feels weird, almost naked, carrying around nothing like that."

She didn't realize how melancholy her voice sounded until she heard it echo in the quiet car. Whatever playlist they were listening to before had probably ended while they made small talk. Solomon was very good at sensing her emotions, and he always spoke warily when she delved deep into her memories and the past. They never pried too deeply into each others' lives, and that is what most likely made their slightly awkward relationship mildly enjoyable. They never spoke of the past, and they never spoke of the future—they simply silently resolved to live out their time together in the present as painlessly as possible.

"I think you're right," he said suddenly. His depressed tone snapped her out of her daze.

"What?"

"I'm too pretty," he sighed melodramatically. Saya knew he was humoring her, but she couldn't help but love him saying it so seriously.

"We're here anyway," he continued, pulling into a parking space right in front of a tall, apartment building. It was smaller than the one Solomon lived in, but it looked more extravagant. Apparently, people working for the CIA made a lot of money.

"So go ahead," Solomon instructed. "I'm ready to be a proper vampire." He held out his hand for the powder, but Saya turned her body towards him instead. She poured some into the palm of her hand and gently dusted it all around his face, just enough to give him an ethereal flush that would last inside.

"There," she said victoriously. She blew the excess off of her palm as she opened the door. Just as she thought—his normal skin was healthy-looking enough to make the tiny circles under his eyes dark next to his whitened cheeks. He looked much older this way, though Saya couldn't honestly say that the change didn't look good on him. Solomon had always had a sort of boyish charm, light and airy and deliciously playful, but thinking about it now, during the past month he looked a few years older than he did thirty years ago.

As she stepped out of the car, she noticed the slit in her dress only went up to her knee. Saya knew from old pictures that a higher slit would be more flattering. And she could feel her lace tights almost itching to show themselves off.

"Toss me your keys," she commanded to Solomon, who gave her a questioning glance before pitching them to her over the roof of the car. She assumed he must have heard the tiny sound of a thread snapping, and a long riiippp as she tore the open seam to the top of her thigh, because he was at her side in an instant, looking horrified as he snatched they keys from her. It didn't do him any good, though, as there was already a long, attractive slit up the skirt of her dress.

"Saya, what are you _doing_?"

"What does it look like?" She laughed at his prudish expression. "If you're worried about the seam, don't; I think the edges were serged, it shouldn't fray."

Solomon just chuckled and rolled him eyes as he slid his arm around her shoulders.

"You enjoy being the center of attention wherever you go, don't you?" he asked pleasantly as they walked to the entrance.

"_Me_?" Saya had to question his sanity on that one. "If all eyes are on me, it's because I'm with _you_."

"Don't blame me that you're too beautiful for your own good," he said, mockingly defensive. He turned reflective, then amused.

"It may have something to do with how people view you tonight, though, so feel free to blame me for that."

She thought about that for a moment.

"Why? Would they view me badly just because I'm your girlfriend?" She looked at him suspiciously in the elevator.

Saya didn't even notice that she said she _is_ his girlfriend, not that she was _pretending to be_.

"Oh, no, they won't view you badly. Just…curiously, is all. It may not be that slit in your dress that grabs everyone's attention, though it probably still will be. They've been attempting to pry into my personal life with no avail for the past five years, so I'm sure they'll absolutely adore meeting you finally."

She laughed, "Have you told them about me?"

"I told them a while ago that I was in a relationship, and you may have come up a few times since then."

"I hope they haven't gotten their hopes up," Saya muttered wryly.

"I'm pretty sure they think I'm crazy and made you up."

Saya turned to him, surprised, and he just shrugged. She thought about it, as they walked down a long, wide hallway lined with polished doors. It was possible that they would get suspicious, considering that their relationship had supposedly been going on for quite some time, and they were serious enough with each other for him to decline dinners in favor of spending time with his newly moved-in sweetheart, and none of his coworkers had even seen her. Saya doubted he had a picture of her anywhere to show them, and even though she was sure Solomon was elusive with the secrets of his private affairs, he was obviously popular, and must have had to make up a few stories here and there to cover his love life.

In fact, Saya found amusement in the fact that she was probably just a convenient stand-in that had appeared just in time to make his stories believable. To make their long courtship feasible, he must have introduced the idea to his coworkers and friends some time ago. Solomon had most likely even planted the name Nicole Georges long before he knew his queen would need it.

She briefly wondered that maybe she should be insulted, but walking side by side with him, his arm warmly blanketing her bare shoulders, Saya couldn't help but feel that everything had worked out perfectly.

They had seen several adults in costume down in the lobby, and a few more had passed them as they made their way to the end of the hall. It was suddenly obvious to her why her chevalier had agreed so easily to his costume, and why he seemed so at ease with hers—everyone they came across was dressed more garishly and flamboyantly than they were. A woman wearing sparkling peacock feathers and almost nothing else, and a man so covered in twigs and blood she almost called him an ambulance. By the time they'd arrived to his friend's door, she matched Solomon's unwavering confidence.

"Ready to play?" Saya was staring straight ahead, but she looked up and smiled when she asked him. He responded by playing with the lace in her hair and smiling.

"Are you sure you want to play with me?"

"Well, you've given me no reason not to want to." She smiled back at him, and he laughed.

"True enough." He knocked on the door loud enough to be heard over the loud music they could hear playing inside.

"Alright, Nicole, my love—smile."

Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, the door opened, revealing a costumed man who looked somewhere in his mid-thirties. He was shouting and laughing over his shoulder to a group of people she couldn't see, but when he finally faced his new guests, his smile was replaced with a look of complete surprise.

"I must be out of my fuckin' mind…"

Solomon just smiled as the man gawked at them. Another man dressed as a zombie bounded to the door excitedly. His face was slightly painted, but she could tell he was very handsome.

"Hey, Ollie, is that the…" His mouth stopped moving as he regarded her chevalier standing before him.

"_Rosdale?_!" The zombie man yelled happily. He pushed the stilled shocked host out of the way to let them inside. "I knew you were bound to make it here again one of these days!"

"You've gotta be shittin' me," Ollie said, slapping Solomon on the back and smiling. "Solomon fucking Rosdale at one of my parties."

Saya stood pressed against Solomon's body as his two coworkers jabbed at him. The spacious condo looked to be two-story and it was flooded with people, all in various degrees of costumed glory. It was obviously a rather classy affair, but she felt a certain lighthearted aura amongst all of the guests that made it feel generally fun. Everyone was laughing, most of them with glasses swishing in their hands, and many of those close to the foyer had turned to see the guests that were holding the hosts' attention for so long. Her ears picked up some of them murmuring and whispering about their charming blonde friend's suspicious companion, and as if on cue, Solomon let go of his grasp on her hip in favor of sliding her in front of him, his arms affectionately resting on her shoulders.

"Ollie, Glenn, I don't believe I've ever introduced you," he said happily, as if oblivious to the many ears attempting to listen in over the music.

"This is Nicole Georges, my girlfriend."

Glenn and Ollie exchanged quick glances of surprise with one another before the host stepped forward and tipped the hat of his mobster costume.

"Ollie Tucker, please to meet you, Nicole."

"The pleasure's all mine," she nodded and smiled as she shook his hand.

"No, the pleasure's all_ mine_." A sly hand wrapped itself around her arm and slid her hand out of Ollie's.

"I can see why Solomon's been ditching us lately. The name's Glenn Williams, by the way. I gotta tell you, Nicole, my spirit was almost crushed when Rosdale told me he was seeing somebody, but I certainly can't blame him now."

Saya just laughed as Solomon reclaimed her from Glenn's grasp, placing his arm around her shoulders and smiling mockingly at his flirtatious friend.

"Not everyone can stay a confirmed bachelor like you, Glenn," Solomon countered as a few people who seemed to recognize them mingled their way over.

"Yeah, well, if I had found someone that looked like _that_, maybe I wouldn't be…" He pouted, but gave Saya a playful wink.

"What do you say, Nicole? Want to ditch this party and go somewhere a little more private?"

A few people around them laughed, and she was suddenly aware that she had an audience.

"Now how could I do that…" She laughed, cuddling closer to Solomon and letting her arms encircle his torso.

"When I am already with my perfect match?"

Her 'perfect match' stiffened in surprise, but he gazed down at her fondly as Glenn laughed an acknowledgment, and Solomon laced his fingers through her gloved hand, which he kissed tenderly.

Glenn and Ollie seemed to prefer ignoring their romantic scene when they realized they were unteasable, and Solomon grabbed two margaritas from a caterer walking by and handed one to her.

"Wait, do you drink?" Solomon asked, probably realizing that up to that point they had only drank blood and an occasional glass of wine together. But he turned only to observe that she'd almost downed half of it already.

"My brother operates a bar, Solomon, and you're asking if I drink?"

He laughed at that and they walked over to a group of people waving at him from across the room.

"Watch your step," he said, a moment too late.

There were two or so steps leading from the entrance hall into the large living and dining rooms, but Saya hadn't taken any notice of them until Solomon's voice caught her falling down them after catching her heel on the train of her evening gown.

She expected to hit the lush carpet with a _thud_, but warm arms captured her falling form, snatching up the tipping margarita glass and holding her back bent towards him in a mock tango dip. She lay there, frozen in his arms, with a surely surprised look on her face, while he stared down at her, looking a little proud and little thrilled, shocked in a happy way to see her so flustered. A few of the tipsier guests clapped at his amazing catch, and she saw Glenn out of the corner of her eye snapping a picture as he leaned again the bar.

Solomon lifted her back up and laughed as he handed her back her glass.

"I-I'm sorry…" Saya whispered to him, thinking he would be embarrassed by her clumsiness.

"You're so cute," he chuckled, rubbing her cheek with the back of his hand. She didn't think twice about how happy it made her that Solomon approved of her.

He led her through some of the people scattered around them, introducing her differently each time, every instance getting more intimate or more adoring, and Saya became aware of exactly how serious Solomon was about how his coworkers viewed him; The men and women (the women especially) seemed genuinely surprised to meet her in person, and they all seemed happy to include her into the group, satisfied that their young leader of sorts had found a companion to accompany him from now on.

_This is Nicole, my girlfriend_, he would say pleasantly.

_Nikki, love, I haven't introduced you to the Berlers yet, have I? Rob, Amy, this is Nicole…_ He would go on.

_Swanson, this is my lovely girlfriend, Nicole, who I've been telling you about…_

The whole night was pretty much like that. After Solomon was pulled over by a few of the older men to discuss a rare moment of business among the other party guests, Saya spent a few moments as the awkward center of attention for a crowd of women before a slender lady beckoned her over to the counter. She excused herself politely and walked over to her.

"I thought you might appreciate a little break," the woman said with a chuckle. She handed Saya a glass of what looked like club soda from the bar behind her.

"Thank you," Saya replied with a sigh. "I'm enjoying myself, but I'm not really used to this kind of attention…"

The woman laughed, "Yeah, I guess I can imagine that. Solomon really does steal the spotlight, huh? From what I've seen, this is the first time he's brought you around, right? Knowing the crazy people in this department, they must be going absolutely gaga meeting you.

"My name is Catherine, by the way. Nicole, right? Pleasure to meet you."

"Yes, how do you do?" Saya sipped her drink. "Do you work with everyone here, Catherine?"

"Oh, no," she laughed, waving it off. "The government's not my scene. My husband used to head up Sammy's department, so we used to have him and everyone over for dinner all the time. Guilty by association, I guess. I'm actually only here to deliver some papers because my husband was exhausted from work."

Come to think of it, Saya noticed that she wasn't wearing a costume. She was dressed in a glamorous variant of a business suit. She looked to be in her early thirties, but in Saya's opinion, she was probably the sort of older woman that was blessed with a young looking face and complexion. She was probably somewhere in her forties. Her light brown hair was tussled into a loose bun, and the red queen was relieved to see this woman's casual, aloof demeanor.

"There you are," Solomon's gentle voice said. "I was half afraid the men in this room had eaten you alive."

"I was lucky enough to meet Catherine before that happened," Saya joked. Solomon and her new friend laughed and he slipped an arm around Saya's shoulder.

"It's good to see you again, Cat. I'm glad you two have met." Solomon gave Catherine a sort of wry smile.

"I am glad she's met at least one sane person here. Tell me; is your husband with you tonight?"

"I'm afraid he's not," she chuckled. "He claims he was exhausted from work, but I think he just sent me over here because he was afraid of the costumes this year. It's vintage vampire you're decked out in, right? Nice choice."

"I thought it might scare them off," her chevalier said sardonically. "As you can see, though, it hasn't worked much."

Saya merely stood there as they spoke like that, giving cynical compliments and dry observations about the party around them. She had never seen Solomon act so casually with a person other than herself before. Actually, she had only seen him act this way with her a handful of times, when he was either so wrapped up in something or so into a conversation that he forgot to keep up his mask of pleasant charm and politeness.

She felt as though, talking to this other woman, Saya was seeing the real Solomon, stripped of his facades and pretenses that, even though they were probably there for good reasons, had always made him feel so out of her reach.

Saya liked him this way.

"Catherine and her husband are one of the few people that share my dry, self-deprecating sort of humor," Solomon explained, most likely trying to defend himself in case she took their barbs at each other and those around them too seriously.

"Yeah, Abram felt sorry for him after we realized the poor sap taking over as head was so young. Can't say we weren't grateful, though. Turns out you were just sane enough to make it."

Hearing Catherine talk about the blonde man next to her as though he was an old friend, and a human, made her smile, mostly because she could tell that Solomon enjoyed it. She had to enjoy it, as well; it was nice being able to be yourself, without people coming to the conclusion that you were a monster.

Saya heard a small chiming.

"Oh, excuse me a minute," Catherine said, hastily pulling open her purse and rifling through it. "I think that's my husband calling me.

"Too much time at the party, I guess," she whispered happily as she opened the phone. She turned her body so that her face was facing away from the music, and Solomon placed his arm around Saya's shoulder. She looked up at his pretty eyes, but he just smiled down at her.

"Yeah, I'm on my way," she heard Catherine say. Catherine turned towards them again and mimed what her husband was saying on the phone.

"Mm-hmm, yes, I dropped them off. Hey, did you know Solomon was here?... I know, right?... his girlfriend is here with him… Nicole… Yeah, I didn't believe him, either…uh-huh, yeah, honey, I will…you're welcome…I love you, too; bye-bye."

Solomon just chuckled under his breath as she rolled her eyes and shoved the tiny phone back into her purse.

"Leaving so soon?" He asked with over-politeness.

"For once I actually wish I could stay," she replied, downing the last of her drink. "Oh, and Abram says 'hi', wants you two to come over once this new project is over with. And Nicole, it was great to meet you. Sorry to leave so soon; let's get lunch sometime."

Just as Saya and Solomon were saying their goodbyes, Glenn rushed over to the attractive woman and pouted.

"But you just got here! At least toast with me before you go!"

She sighed and picked up a glass from behind her, and Glenn nodded for Saya and Solomon to do the same.

"To Nicole and Rosdale and Catherine and new friendships and the best party ever!"

He shouted and they clinked their glasses together. The force behind Glenn's martini was just a tad to powerful, though, and the top of Catherine's glass shattered, the shards falling haphazardly onto her hands, where tiny beads of blood appeared.

Saya felt a chill down her spine, and her cheeks suddenly heated up.

She heard Glenn burst into laughter, and even Solomon laughed slightly when Catherine brushed it off as a harmless act of tipsiness after wiping the blood off of her fingers. She felt herself bidding Catherine a cheery farewell, and she wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.

"—alright?"

Saya looked up as Solomon jostled her shoulder softly.

"Are you alright?" he repeated.

"I'm just feeling a little dizzy," she responded, shaking off the fog.

"You feel a little warm, would you like a drink?"

"Actually, yeah." She was feeling a little out of breath. "One without alcohol, if you can find one. I'm going get some air. Meet you on the balcony."

Saya could see Solomon smile sadly and nod as she turned away and walked to the deserted balcony. There was a loud song playing inside and many of the guests and decided to burn off their energy by dancing dances she didn't know and had never seen. She hadn't meant to be rude, but the smell of the parlor had suddenly turned her stomach, and even though the cold bars surrounding the enormous balcony were refreshing against her skin, Saya had to use all of her strength not to wretch when she tried to inhale the cool night air.

For some reason, some _sick, vile reason_, she couldn't get Catherine out of her head.

It made her chest tighten and it burned when she tried to take a breath. Her knees buckled and she hung onto the railing to stop herself from collapsing onto the stony deck. Saya was grateful she was alone on the veranda—she didn't want any _human_ around her.

But although it wasn't a human, she realized she wasn't alone.

She felt the wind brush against her face as Solomon raced from the open doorway to catch her in his arms. He was just tall enough that while he held her into his chest, her head pushed into the crook of his neck, her feet only barely tickled the ground.

She couldn't help herself from shaking, and Solomon was stroking her head down to her shoulder slowly in an attempt to calm her down. He had maneuvered himself so that they were standing in the corner, her body pushed against the outside wall, his body directly in front of her.

Saya stood there, her body rigid and tight as he cradled her into his chest. Her hands automatically gripped the beck of his tuxedo jacket, and her sporadic breaths made it clear what the problem was.

She hadn't had any blood in the past 36 hours.

When they had returned from dinner last night she'd been so exhausted she went straight to bed, and this morning she had been so preoccupied with her hair that she'd completely forgotten. Her old limit used to be between 48 and 72 hours before collapsing or losing control, but her body must have gotten used to feeding at least twice a day. Saya was suddenly very grateful that Solomon had her pinned to a wall.

And she couldn't help but hate herself as she traced the smell of Catherine's blood back to the floor. _1,2,3…4_ tiny droplets slowly sinking into the carpet. They would be so _easy_ to get…it wouldn't take _any force at all_…

And even if that didn't work, there were _so many_ people inside; so many _weak, helpless humans_ eager to meet and talk with her. There were so many _arteries_ just sitting there, waiting for an accident to slice them ever so gently…

_Oh no, what a mess… Let _me_ help you…_

"Saya?" Solomon pulled away from their false lovers embrace. His beautiful eyes were pained when he saw her bright red eyes glowing back at him.

"Saya…"

Her stomach wrenched and she grabbed her burning chest. She pushed Solomon away as she sank to the floor, coughing up empty breaths and gagging up fiery air. Saya could feel the tears singeing her cheeks as she sobbed on the ground. She couldn't hear the reassuring words she knew Solomon was trying to say, and when he lifted her off the pavement, her legs buckled and she limply hyperventilated into his chest.

Her nails dug into him. It felt as though her lungs were shriveling up inside of her. She heard a low growl escape her throat, and she almost tore away his jacket when she tried to edge toward the blood she could feel pumping through the innocent dancers still inside.

"Solomon…no, oh no…please," She gasped. Saya didn't think he saw the direness of the situation.

"You…oh, God…stop…me." She summoned up just enough sanity to try and relay the warning as she attempted to wriggle out of his grasp. Solomon was strong; she knew he fed this morning. He could wrestle her to the ground and stop her until she passed out. He could knock her out if he couldn't restrain her.

He _should_.

Solomon's large hands wrapped themselves around her wrists and pinned them to her sides. She could feel herself struggle against his grip and she had to grind her teeth to stop from lashing out.

"Saya." His voice rang clear in her ears. "Saya, no, it's okay; I'm right here."

"Look at me, Saya!" He abandoned her wrists and grabbed her chin, forcing her to stare up at him. He didn't look scared at all. He should have been as horrified as Haji was in Vietnam, but he just anxiously reassured her.

"Look at me! It's okay, I won't let anything happen to you. I know it's scary. I'm right here with you."

He hugged her close and clamped his arms around her, ignoring the pain he must have felt when she inadvertently clawed his back in bloodlust. She was coughing and sobbing sporadically into his chest, her body now limp and weak as a ragdoll's, but the spasms continued.

"It's okay, don't be afraid. Please, it's okay."

She felt bile push its way into her mouth, and she swallowed it down. Solomon's grip relented enough for her to cover her nose with her hands while still in his arms. Her legs finally completely gave out and he knelt down and eased her into a chaise lounge sitting on the balcony.

"Saya, no… Sshhh, come here." He sat on the end of the long seat and patted her head as she curled into herself. "Here…"

She looked up sharply when she smelled his familiar scent, stronger than ever before. He was leaning directly in front of her, the more vampiric aspects of his costume probably strewn over a chair inside the party rooms. The buttons of his crisp white shirt were almost completely undone, his fair skin starkly contrasting the red vest and black jacket. His arms were already around her, pushing her head toward his collarbone, positioning her mouth directly against his pulsating vein.

Saya tried to object, but the fire in her chest told her not to trust her open mouth if she tried to speak against his soft neck. It had never been this bad before. She should have passed out by now, but she could feel a second wind of bloodlust coming.

"Go ahead," Solomon's voice was like an angel, a light in the muddled red fog she saw around her.

Solomon didn't flinch when she bit down. Saya was so surprised by the first taste that she sprung backwards, only to have Solomon hold her down to his chest. Her humanity was screaming inside her head, but it tasted so _good_; it tasted so _right_ going down her throat. It was like copper, but so much smoother. It was a harsher taste than Haji's blood. This blood was so sweet. It was light and airy and sugary sour and it pinched her taste buds at first. Gradually the pain subsided in her lungs and stomach, and her head fell from exhaustion into his waiting arms.

Her eyes were closed, droopy from fatigue and malnutrition, and she felt Solomon lay her down onto the chaise briefly as he rustled to take of his tuxedo jacket and wrap it around her shoulders. She clung to him when he held her again, and he seemed hesitant for a moment before sitting back into the seat, lifting her into his lap as he leaned back.

Saya wasn't sure how long she stayed with him like that. Darkness was always funny like—it left her feeling as though time looped into a comfortable forever. She was never sure when the morning would come until the first bright light began peeping out.

She wasn't sure why, but she wished that this moment would last forever. Somehow she felt so safe and tranquil and happy whenever she was with him. Solomon had never judged her, and she had no feelings of guilt at ruining his happy-ever-after of humanity. She had once thought that Haji and Solomon were very similar, but she now realized, nor _felt_, that they were very different indeed.

But listening to his slow breaths as he held her close to him, she couldn't honestly say that she felt no guilt. The truth was, she was feeling an overwhelming amount of remorse for everything that had happened thirty years ago, and especially for the things that had happened in the past thirty days.

Forcing him to help her, house her, protect her, when her own chevalier by blood could not muster up the courage to look at her anymore knowing that their love was something otherworldly and unnatural, was absolutely despicable.

But still, she couldn't help but want to continue stargazing with him, to continue to have fun and be close to him and live out their time together closely.

_Using him to fulfill your romantic fantasies, until you have to have to return to the real world?_ Saya thought bitterly. _Just so you can pretend you're in a perfect relationship and leave when you're satisfied?_

_You sick, heartless, bitch._

So Saya pushed aside whatever instincts her chiropteran heart whispered, and looked up into his aquamarine eyes, and she made the decision then to do what she should have done years ago.

"Solomon," she began, too weak to lift herself off of his chest.

"I'm sorry."

He shifted himself so that they were both sitting up.

"You don't have to be sorry," he almost laughed, but she could tell he was earnest. "It happens to the best of us; I'm just glad I was here, and that you're alright."

His small smile was enough to leave her heart in pieces.

"No, you don't understand," Saya continued, "I'm sorry about everything; everything that happened to you during the war, what you went through for me, and for what? So that I could reject you and show up needing your help as soon as it's convenient? Here I am, using you and pretending like nothing ever happened, and you're letting me… letting me _feed_ off of you!

"Solomon, I can never really apologize for what I've done to you. You have your own life, your own feelings, and I hate interrupting everything I know you've worked towards. After all you've done for me, I just keep burdening you."

She felt real tears swell up in her eyes. She controlled her voice enough not to crack.

"I'm just so sorr—"

Solomon cut her off by pulling her towards him, her mouth pushed against the collar of his shirt. Saya attempted to pull free, but he just held her there.

"Saya," he whispered softly, "I once told you that even if I reaped no benefits, I would be your chevalier."

He pulled her away from his chest and cradled her head in his hands as he stared at her, smiling.

"Although the circumstances are not ideal, I am truly happy to have you in my life right now. Everything that happened, before, during, and after the war, makes me more honored than ever to be a chevalier at your side. When the Red Shield contacted me out of the blue, I was more than willing to help in any way I could to keep you safe.

"Saya, my angel, I may not be in love with you, but I will always be by your side. Always. It may not be by blood, but I am your chevalier, aren't I?"

The red queen nodded, the tears in her eyes stinging for a completely different reason now.

_I may not be in love with you…_

"Yes, Solomon. You will always be my chevalier."

_Not in love with you…_

Solomon stood up, and knelt down in front of her and kissed her hand.

_**Not in love with you…**_

"And you will always be my queen."

_Good,_ she thought as she smiled down at him.

_Good, I'm glad. He doesn't harbor any feelings for me anymore. Thank goodness. We can actually be friends now that we're on the same page. He doesn't love me any more than he can love his queen. It wouldn't be fair to him if he did love me._

_And God knows, I mean, God _knows_ I don't love him._

"Thank you, Solomon," Saya said when he stood up. He laughed of the serious atmosphere and grabbed her hand. He yanked her to standing and twirled her around as if they were dancing.

"I'm really the one who should be thanking you," Solomon said lightheartedly. Saya's body was still very weak, but he didn't seem to notice as he swung her around to the music still blaring inside.

"You have two of the most powerful countries in the modern world after you, and you still entertain an old friend every night with cheerful company, keep up a false personal relationship, dress up in ridiculous attire to attend a costume party for the sake of your sentinel, and even let me show you off as you're starving for blood? Keep in mind that all the while you're guilting yourself to death, worrying about hurting someone whose sole purpose in life is to do the very things you feel guilty asking for…"

He caught her again as she attempted to dance on her rubbery legs, and he laughed. Solomon was always able to control the tone of the conversation and make it happy again.

"So, I will just say that I am really looking forward to you staying with me. Whether it be for another week, month, or year, I'm always happy to have you play with me."

They danced the last steps to the song, though Saya was sure they were dancing a step too old-fashioned.

"I need to sit down," she said, coughing a little as she laughed. "I'm getting dizzy after one dance."

Solomon looked concerned in a curious, sympathetic sort of way.

"So weak, after only two days of not drinking." He touched her forehead with the back of his hand. "That's just so odd to me. I would have thought you'd be feeling as good as new by now, but you're feverish."

"In any case," Solomon brushed it off, adjusting the headpiece in Saya's hair as she looked up at him drowsily, "we should get going. It must be almost two in the morning, and I fear for your safety if you're too weak to defend yourself around this crowd."

She was about to call him on his over-exaggeration, but he continued, more seriously this time.

"And I honestly have no desire to stay any longer anyway. I would feel much better getting you home and rested. The sight of you, so lethargic and drained, makes me feel a little guilt-ridden. I would never forgive myself if something were to happen to you."

"You're so overdramatic," Saya sighed, rolling her eyes at him.

"Coming from the woman as limp and pale as a porcelain doll? I think it's well within my right to be."

"If you say so," she relented.

He didn't stagger when he scooped her up into his arms, like a groom carrying his bride over the threshold. Saya looked at him bizarrely when he carried her over to the edge of the balcony, instead of going back inside.

"They probably think we've already left," he explained, sensing her confusion. "Plus, it's faster this way.

"And more fun," he added. "Hold on tight."

Saya was about to object when he gripped her tight and leapt off of the ledge. She should have known he wasn't aiming for the next building, but she still clung onto him for dear life as they descended at least two dozen stories to the alley below. It was frightening, plummeting down at such a high speed, but it was oddly comforting. It was so reminiscent of her days in battle, when she would hurdle from roof to roof like a gazelle at hurricane speeds.

But she had left things like that behind, now that the war was over. Indulging herself like that was pointless with her comfortable, human life, and now that she felt human at last, why would she need to? Wasn't living a comfortable life enough?

Maybe that was what she liked so much about Solomon—he seemed _so_ human, but never left the chiropteran piece of himself behind. Solomon was always simply himself, and that he had ended up the perfect blend of chiropteran and human was probably something he had never realized, or at least never strived hard for, like Saya had.

These weird feelings of admiration were because he was someone she had always wanted to be. So confident, so perfect, so unbelievable comfortable with everything, that even his admitting that he no longer loved the woman he'd once pledged your heart to sounded natural and apropos.

She let her head lean against his neck as he carried her to the car (she tried to protest, but he had just scoffed), and breathed in his aroma when he laid her into the front seat. Solomon was humming a little tune as they started driving back, and it was silent in the car besides that for the rest of the way. Saya thought briefly about turning on some background music, but she actually liked the sound of his little hums, and her arms felt too heavy to lift to the radio. She had heard him sing softly to himself or hum a handful of times before, when he thought she was asleep or forgot he wasn't alone, and she enjoyed seeing him act naturally around her.

When they arrived back at his apartment, he ignored her objections once again (he was very good at that) and parked under the building instead of using the front entrance. She could hear his shoes scuff the adjacent building as he kicked off of it, gliding up to land comfortably onto his balcony.

The clock read just past four in the morning been he set her down and she stumbled to her door. She didn't even bother taking off her makeup as she brushed her teeth quickly and threw on some nightclothes. When she walked out the bathroom and over to the bed, she noticed Solomon leaning on the doorframe, holding three glasses of blood.

"Thirsty much?" Saya joked.

"They're not for me. They're for you." He stated matter-of-factly.

She gave him a smile, "I think I've had enough for tonight, thanks."

"Yeah, except… not really. Get into bed; you're going to pass out any minute."

She sat down on the bed and he looked at her expectantly. She rolled her eyes and pulled away the covers, nestling into them, waiting for him to be satisfied.

"Happy now?" she asked with mock sweetness.

"Not yet," Solomon replied with a small smile. He took the liberty of sitting next to her completely reclined form, and handed her a glass.

"Drink up."

She took the glass from him, and her arms were just strong enough for her to hold it comfortably to her lips. Saya drank the first one easily enough, used to the taste by now, and the second with only slight difficulty. She paused, and he held out the third one and waited for her to take it.

"You're such a nag," Saya sighed with a playful sneer.

"I know."

His reply was short and almost happy, and she sipped up the last remnants of the last glass before her head collapsed onto the pillow completely. Solomon stroked her cheek and pushed he hair out of her face, kissing her clammy forehead softly before rising.

"You are a princess; I hope you sleep as well as one," he whispered.

Saya watched him turn off the light and walk slowly to the door out of the corner of her sleepy eye. He closed the door without a sound, and in her last conscious moments, she was engulfed with a strange emotion.

Saya was happy, in a weird way. It was the happiness and pride that came with doing _the right thing_. But it was a sad, almost hollow happiness, too, with a faint wish that it shouldn't have to end that way.

Some part of her may have been sad about it, but Saya's head found solace in the realization that her relationship with Solomon would never amount to anything more than friendship.

Never.

--

Solomon closed the door as gently as he could. He knew that Saya was a heavy sleeper, but attempting to fall asleep under her weakened condition could just make her restless.

It still bothered him a great deal. She looked so drained, so pained, after less than two days? The alcohol and food could have absorbed a tiny amount of nutrients from her body, perhaps, but when Diva was in one of her moods, she often went days without feeding, only returning to her chevaliers when she was about to go absolutely feral.

He leaned against the counter next to his own empty glass, and sighed. The blonde chevalier could feel his red queen breathing evenly, though weakly, on the other side of the door only a few dozen feet away. At least that was a good sign, that she was only a little shaky. He was lucky that he'd already been planning to stay at home for the next few days; in even the mild cases of malnutrition induced bloodlust he had encountered, it sometimes look a few days to completely return to normal strength.

His thought process was interrupted by a soft, rapid knock on his front door. Solomon was shocked that he hadn't noticed the familiar presence outside his apartment before now, but he didn't even have to look through the peephole in his front door to know who it was.

Solomon stepped up to the door and opened it with a frustrated sort of sigh.

A woman stood before him, her fiery hair bobbed and curled around her ears. She had changed clothes from when he'd seen her in the salon earlier in the day. Her small, slender body was cocked to the side, and she laughed and snaked herself into the atrium seductively. Solomon exhaled, defeated.

"Hello, Nathan."

_________________________________________________________________________________

A/N: My my my! This has taken an unexpected twist, hasn't it? You must be asking yourself some questions, like:

1. Catherine's husband's name was Abram—it can't be the same Abram can it? CAN IT?!

2. Solomon said he doesn't love Saya anymore, so their romance is over before it began…OR IS IT?

3. WHAT THE FUCK IS NATHAN DOING HERE?!

4. And Saya and Haji…was their love really never meant to be?

And on a funny note, I was originally going to have Saya and Solomon walking along the street, and come upon a car crash that had just occurred, the blood of which igniting her bloodlust, and skipping the whole party altogether. However, my beta just sent a note back to me saying WHAT HAPPENED TO THE PARTY 0_0. She was right—I like the party better.

All you have to do is **REVIEW AND GIVE ME FEEDBACK**, and I will update soon! I want initiative to keep this going! So please review if you want to see what happens next!


	12. Hear Me

A/N: Here it is--the long overdue chapter 12 of Savior's Song! I hope you enjoy it. And thanks so much to the few people that shot me some reviews, I took them all to heart!

Yayy Nathan's back!! And he's here to talk to Solomon! About LOVE!!

Enjoy!!

--

Chapter 12: Hear Me

-Colors of the Heart-

_The boy with the thorn in his side  
behind the hatred there lies  
a murderous desire for love  
_

_how can they look into my eyes  
and still they dont believe me  
how can they hear me say those words  
and still they dont believe me  
and if they don't believe me now  
will they ever believe me?  
and if they don't believe me now  
will they ever believe me_

_(The Smiths)_

--

Saya's room was still and quiet. The only air that shifted was from the short, steady breaths from the tiny queen's mouth. It made the bedroom smell like her, and it radiated throughout the entire apartment.

Solomon felt no shame as he stepped freely into the room. He sat down next to her prone form, and jostled her shoulder very softly. She didn't wake up, of course; she didn't even move, save for the slight tilt of the head caused by his movement.

The past two days she had only gotten up out of bed a handful of times, every time very dizzy but completely coherent. She had expressed concern at his staying home to watch her, which was understandable considering technically worked in a field indispensable to national security, but he assured her with a tiny white lie and a smile.

"_Oh, they must be quite used to it by now." Solomon said as he sat down next to her on the giant L-shaped couch in the living room. "I take off a few days every now and then, just to make my personal life a little more normal. Right now I believe I'm supposed to be visiting my parents in Kenosha. I can't have perfect attendance all the time, can I?"_

Solomon stared down at her pale face now, and remarked inwardly that not much had changed. He just couldn't understand what was wrong with her. Her body now reminded him of what it was like all of those years ago when he had saved her from Amshel and treated her wounds.

Back then he was unnerved because he had seen what was wrong completely. Her limbs so frail, her eyes so glossy—her sleep was coming, then.

He recalled the day a few nights ago, when she'd dragged him into the thrift store before the party, he saw her bony shoulders and tiny leg poking out of the dress. Her face beamed so happily and the light in her eyes was so bright, but her body was twig-like, a stickly tree so easily snapped in half.

And her face those first few days and nights they spent together after she arrived encouraged those thoughts inside his head—she looked as though the weight of the world, her thoughts, her obligations, _her relationships_, might just crush her like a tiny blossom against a hurricane.

Saya had the body many women would probably give their left arm for (though Solomon was never sure exactly _why_), but she looked brittle now. Perhaps it was because Solomon had spent the majority of his life surrounded by Diva's supple curves and rounded edges. When she walked, every part of her had moved, and he found himself unable to look away. He couldn't look away when Saya moved either, of course, but it was out of pure and relentless affection rather than dutiful lust.

Now he found himself almost terrified, and the incident a few nights before made him think that his queen's weakened condition may be more than a case of simple malnutrition.

--

Nathan lounged across the chaise decorating Solomon's living room, bright red stilettos clicking when he crossed his legs onto the coffee table. He tilted his still-feminine head toward Solomon, who was standing in the atrium with a look of neither pleasure nor antagonism on his handsome face.

"Well, aren't you going to offer me a drink?" Nathan asked. "After all, I haven't seen you in ages!"

The younger blonde man smiled passive-aggressively. "I seem to be the only one who hasn't seen you, now that you mention it, Nathan. Oh, or is it James Caulfield? Katrina, perhaps?"

Nathan merely laughed, and Solomon paused for a moment, but then walked over to the kitchen and poured Nathan a glass of what he remembered to be his favorite wine. He briefly wondered whether or not he should offer him a glass of something a little more…nutritious, but Solomon knew his last remaining brother preferred to keep his feeding habits private. It was the only thing he seemed to keep secret, actually.

"If you wouldn't mind terribly much," Solomon said coolly as he handed him the glass, "could you kindly change into a form a little less—"

"Incriminating?" Nathan finished his sentence, and took a long sip.

"I beg your pardon, miss?" Solomon said, not hiding his irritation. Nathan rolled his eyes and sighed, and within the blink of an eye, Nathan Mahler, a familiar picture of cornflower hair and flamboyant clothes, sat before him.

"So, what? You don't want Saya seeing another woman in your apartment?" Nathan seemed completely at-ease with talking about the red queen, which was exactly what Solomon was worried about.

"I'm a little more concerned with why exactly you're here. Or rather, why you have _been_ here, constantly. I will thank you for calling me and warning me about the airport lockdown, though I am not sure how you _knew_. And I'm grateful that you seem to be keeping your real identity from Saya a secret, but as I'm sure you're aware, I don't condone your persistent intrusion into her life. On airplanes, at clothing stores; it makes me curious as to why you are bombarding her like this."

Nathan played with the tips of his silky hair, and looked at his fingernails aloofly. "Did it ever occur to you, Solomon, that maybe I would like to check up on our darling little queen after all this time? She's _m_yfamily, too, you know."

Solomon looked away calmly and ran his hand through his hair. He heard his brother laugh in front of him, and knew that Nathan saw right through his pathetic façade of calmness.

It's not that he wasn't happy to see his last remaining brother. It was quite the opposite; apart from Saya, the only other person in the world he felt completely comfortable with was the man in front of him. For all intents and purposes, Nathan was his only living family, and although he wasn't sure why, Solomon felt as though Nathan was always looking out for him, if only for partial amusement.

After all, Nathan _had_ saved his life. But Solomon tried very hard not to think about that.

After Solomon understood the grudges and drive for revenge that had fueled Saya and Diva's war so long ago, he had vowed to begin living in the present. And it just so happened that Saya was part of his life now, a big part, and he couldn't say he wasn't enjoying it. A lot.

"Believe it or not, Solomon, I didn't come here just to criticize your relationship with Saya."

Solomon couldn't help his lips tightening as he attempted not to snap back.

"There _is_ no relationship, Nathan."

"Oh really?" Nathan asked with mock surprise. He toyed with his nails. "Silly me, I must have mistaken the way she was looking at you. My mistake."

Solomon took an involuntary step backward, and he felt his face morph from surprised to controlled fury in a matter of seconds.

Saya was sacred in Solomon's eyes. Her feelings towards him, or lack thereof, were not something that he took lightly. It wasn't something that he _could _take lightly. Nathan of all people knew that; he had been there, watching him silently as he was blinded by love and wandered off that path that Amshel paved for him. Even Nathan's cruelest brand of humor wouldn't touch so close to home, unless he had a specific reason for doing so.

"Nathan," he said coolly, trying not to let his frustration interfere with determining his brother's intentions. "Tell me why you're here."

Something in Nathan's face changed then, and the air around him went completely still. He continued to sit, and Solomon admitted to himself that even though he was at the moment towering over his seated brother, he felt uncomfortable doing so. Nathan uncrossed a leg and looked up at Solomon.

"I came here to help you." He said it with a very small, very genuine smile.

Solomon was tempted to ask why exactly he thought he needed help, or how he was attempting to provide it, but Nathan's seriousness made him pause. Nathan sat straighter.

"Our little queen is in danger, and you know that. And she's here because she's safer here than anywhere else, and I know you know that, too.

"But what you don't know is that you don't have to worry about protecting her."

Nathan stood up, and walked over to the large window next to the door that led to the balcony upstairs. He shifted the curtains and looked into the starry night. Solomon's brother sighed thoughtfully and fingered the layers of fabric with a contemplative look.

"The Red Shield contacted me five weeks ago," Solomon said, breaking the silence. "I doubt they would have brought in a third party such as myself unless it was absolutely necessary for her protection."

"The Red Shield is funny that way," Nathan retorted, speaking more to the room than to his host directly. "I think, maybe, that the Red Shield is more concerned with our queen's safety than she is." He looked back at Solomon.

The two blondes stared at each other for a few moments, and Solomon confessed inwardly had he had indeed noticed that if Saya was concerned about anything, it was her caretaker's safety and comfort, not her own. If anything, Saya expressed nothing but annoyance and displeasure at her comrades' insistence that she leave the fighting, just this once, to them.

He'd found himself happy, when, in a moment of chattiness, she explained in frustration that the only good thing that came out of Haji's protective instinct, it was being able to see Solomon again.

Solomon still had trouble seeing exactly what Nathan was getting at, and he sucked in air through pursed lips. "Nathan, although I am not sure how you know what you do, I'll admit you're right. But are you forgetting that Saya _is_ being hunted by quite a few dangerous organizations? Not to mention the fact that we don't know specifically who or what they _are_."

"And are _you_ forgetting, Solomon, that you also have the most powerful being on the planet and the only geniuses that know about them on your side?" Nathan was obviously irritated that his brother didn't understand.

"Are you saying she should be off fighting with them?"

"What I'm saying is that I think you could both benefit from this situation."

His first reaction was to question Nathan again, to ask how exactly anyone, Saya especially, could benefit from such circumstances. To be relocated to the only safe place left for you, with no family, no friends--to have even your own fiancé tell you put your safety before your own happiness.

Solomon knew Saya. He knew probably more than she knew he did. She was a fighter by instinct, not out of duty. She was an amazingly strong woman who would to anything to protect the ones she loved. It was admirable, and to send her off 'for her own protection' may be doing her more harm than good.

"The point is," Nathan started again, the laughter and poise returning to his voice as he cocked his hip, "that I came to give you a heads up. The Red Shield is on the move, tracking down and eliminating the threats that are trying to find our little Saya, but that also means that they are eliminating something very important in her life." He turned to face Solomon completely, and leaned against the wall. He looked expectantly at Solomon and, when Solomon looked back at him blankly, went on.

"They are eliminating her _**purpose,**_ Solomon. The only reason she thought she existed was to fight and protect. And now the protected are protecting _her._ I can't fathom how useless and horrible she feels right now."

He paused for a moment, continuing in a softer voice.

"If Saya is anything like Diva, then she doesn't like people making decisions like these for her. And who could blame her? Quite frankly I'm amazed that she even went along with it at all. I mean, I half expected to find the little queen hunting down chiropterans in Egypt herself—the Red shield and Haji right on her tail, of course.

"But, she didn't end up doing that, did she? She didn't end up fighting at all, actually. In fact, she's right here, with you, sleeping soundly in just the other room, if I sense correctly."

Nathan waited, but continued again when Solomon remained silent.

"I think the only thing you need to do is make her happy right now." Nathan stood up, his eyes gazing softly but intensely at Solomon as he began to pace around him. "I'd imagine you have already considered that, since you aren't going out of your way to restrict and guard her. And I can't say that I think Haji thinks differently."

A chill ran down his spine, and Solomon's voice was barely audible as Nathan stopped pacing and stood behind him.

"What do you mean, Nathan?" he whispered.

"I can't really speak for Saya, and I guess I can't really speak for Haji, either," Nathan sighed. "But it seems to me that something wasn't right. I never thought she would come to you alone, much less jump into your waiting arms with Haji's _consent_. I mean, it's always possible he's working the 'Absence makes the heart grow fonder' angle, but I really think it's more like…"

Nathan trailed off just as Solomon met his eyes, and Nathan smiled. Solomon felt a wide array of emotions sweep over his face, but didn't indulge any of them. He ground his teeth for a moment, and when Nathan said nothing, Solomon pushed him on.

"What's your point? You aren't seriously trying to tell me that Haji would hand her over to me out of anything other than concern for her safety?" Solomon felt his voice rising. "Are you completely insane?" He finally forgot there was a sleeping woman in the next room. "Can you think of any earthly reason why he would do that?! The only way he would even consider sending her here is if he knew there was no other option! Haji is a number of things in my eyes, but hear me now, Nathan—one thing he absolutely is not is an idiot!"

Nathan stood silently and let his younger brother finish seething. Solomon could feel his heart race, anxiety and human hopelessness overcoming his conscious mind. He tried to calm down.

"So," Nathan began, his voice taking on a completely different tone, casually changing the subject, "have your feelings changed towards her?"

"Don't be stupid, Nathan," Solomon said with an irritated, defeated sigh.

"Is that a no?"

Solomon stared at Nathan for a few moments before walking over to the edge of his couch and sinking into it. He resisted the urge to rest his head in his panicky hands, and gazed forward.

His eyes met with the empty fireplace and mantle. He had put a few vases and other stylishly monotonous knick-knacks on the polished granite overhang above the hearth, and this conversation and setting made his apartment feel _cold._

He stared at it for quite some time, and after a few moments he became entranced with the scorch marks left from previous fires. Solomon could only remember actually lighting a fire in this housing a handful of times, and that was only since Saya had begun staying with him, but it mystified him how prominent they were.

All it took was one time, one fire, to change something sculpted and perfect into something with character and signs of life. All it needed was one little spark. He couldn't tell whether it ruined the marble, or made it better.

Solomon couldn't say he didn't relate.

"Never," he finally replied quietly. His voice sounded raw and flattened even to his own ears, and he kept looking strait ahead.

"Never, ever, in a hundred thousand years would my feelings change. Saya is my _everything_, she always will be. Even now, perhaps even more so now that she has given her heart to _Haji_, all I have is her face in my head, her words in my ears, and if I could dream it would be of her touch. I may be the worst kind of person, Nathan, because I am almost grateful she is being hunted, because it means she can be here."

Nathan opened his mouth to speak, but closed it when he saw Solomon's eyes narrow and close. "And that is why, Nathan, there is no way Haji would ever force her to come to me unless it was absolutely unavoidable to her immediate safety. The one thing we ever understood about each other was our mutual love for Saya." He laughed self-deprecatingly. "I've never liked Haji, but I doubt he would be that stupid. I'm pretty sure he would rather have someone find and torture her to death, than hand Saya over to me."

Nathan took a few silent sips from his wine as his brother ran his hands through his hair again. One thing Solomon was grateful for was the kindness his brother showed when it came to human mannerisms. Amshel was absolutely brutal about it… _wretched habits_, as he called them. Solomon recalled a time when Amshel caught him staring blankly out of a window, absentmindedly chewing on his nails after a particularly stressful meeting. Amshel had slapped his hand away from his jaw so fast and hard Solomon had staggered back, clutching a briefly dislocated shoulder. He remembered looking disbelievingly at Amshel, who merely glowered back in disgust, walked away seconds later as though nothing had happened.

But Nathan had always taken those things with a grain of salt, oftentimes amused. Karl had his obsessive nature and James had his pride; Nathan seemed to get quite a kick of Solomon's nerves especially, the little anxieties and insecurities. Nathan said that it was those faint traits that they learned as humans that made a chevalier strong and gave them life. Amshel scoffed, but Solomon found a great level of respect for Nathan that day.

Perhaps that is why, years and years later, it had been Nathan that accepted his brother's decision to stray from the path as Diva's chevalier.

"Well, it's of no consequence, I guess," Solomon sighed with a wry smile, hanging his head. "It's not as though she ever returned my feelings. Or that she ever will. She's engaged."

"And your feelings haven't changed? Even after all this?" Nathan's voice was quiet and meticulous.

Solomon actually rolled his eyes. "Even if it were possible, I know they wouldn't change. The love I have for her kills me, but it's also the only thing that gives me the strength to live."

For once Nathan didn't comment on his brothers' melodramatic language.

"Then why don't you tell her? I could tell by her face that you haven't."

"I told her thirty years ago, and all it did was burden her. I'm not going to bother her with my affection. The last thing she needs right now is… me."

Solomon rested his face in his palms and took a few deep breaths. Even against his own skin, all he could smell was Saya, her lavender shampoo and the dark coffee she took almost black still clinging to the air.

He loved it so. It was unbearable, but Solomon was reminded with every breath why he continued to breathe.

Saya, the red devil queen, scorched his heart, branded him for eternity as a soldier that gave up loyalty for love. That single dance he gave her in Vietnam, that one little spark of passion in her eye had changed him. Perhaps he was a masochist, but that painful metamorphosis had been the most beautiful feeling in the world.

"I guess I'll be going then," Nathan said passively. "I won't stick around in case you go into one of your episodes."

Solomon stood to see him out, his cordiality ingrained into him, but Nathan was already at the door.

"You can claim to know whatever you want about people's feelings, Solomon," he said with a sad sort or sereneness. "But I can tell you one thing—the Red Shield didn't need to send Saya away for her protection. And Haji knew that, too."

Before Solomon could interject, Nathan was gone. The heavy door to the apartment neither opened nor closed, but Nathan had disappeared.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Well there you have it! Sometimes it takes the most annoying people to make you realize something about yourself.

So I guess Solomon still loves her (GUESS YOU DIDN'T SEE THAT COMING!). Nice work, Solomon, just when Saya decides you'll never love her!

Oh, and I already have the next chapter almost finished. I'll post it in a week or so…OR MAYBE SOONER IF I GET SOME REVIEWS!!!

Please review, folks! Tell me what you think of it!


	13. Seems to Me

A/N: Well here it is, a little later than I meant it to be. I just realized that I've been writing this story for over a year. Holy shit, I need to update more! I have the whole story figured out already--I just have to type it up. So I'll try and post a new chapter every week. At least once every two weeks.

Oh, and just to give you all a funny story, I started playing the SIMS the other day when my beta realized that the layout of Solomon's apartment made no sense. I made a floor plan, and then decided that I shouldn't let it go to waste, so I quickly made little Blood+ SIMS to live in it. After about 15 minutes, Saya died in a fire and Solomon refused to continue living normally. So I tried to press those action buttons, but it kept saying he was too depressed and he started sobbing every time he got near the fireplace. I am not even joking. Eventually, he lit a fire, collapsed from exhaustion, and died from another random fire.

Can their love ever find peace?

Oh, and just FYI, this is the last internal monologue from poor little emo Saya and her never-quite-there love with Haji. It takes quite a turn after this. Enjoy!

--

Chapter 13: Seems to me

-The bright eyes-

_And why'd you say  
It's just another day, nothing in my way  
I don't wanna go, I don't wanna stay  
So there's nothing left to say  
And why'd you lie  
When you wanna die, when you hurt inside  
Don't know what you lie for anyway  
Now there's nothing left to say_

_For a lonely soul, it seems to me that you're having such a nice time_

_(Keane)_

_--_

Even after Solomon had returned to work, Saya noticed that were still comfortable around each other.

Solomon constantly encouraged her to explore the city, with or without him. She guessed it was because whenever he returned from work, or even on the days he had off, he found her on the sprawling couch in the living room reading. Occasionally she would have soft music playing in the background. He even found her more than once up on the higher terrace, lost in a book as a new wind chime hung from the canopy.

He didn't seem distressed by her apathy towards the city so much as concerned about a lack of stimulation. Saya always laughed him off, saying he was being too hospitable.

"_I'm not here on a vacation, you know," she'd told him. "You don't have to entertain me. I'm fine with just relaxing and reading."_

And who could really blame her? The books in his apartment were astonishing. Saya's favorite part about Solomon's apartment wasn't the location or the spaciousness; it was the knowledge he had collected there. She'd never really taken Solomon as a bibliophile until she had a look around his apartment. There was at least one bookshelf in every room. Even in her bedroom, she realized that the lower shelves of her bedside tables were full of classic literature. The dining room, living room, even the hallways had rows and rows of books in them. They were almost tastefully hidden—they're bindings and placements almost blending in with the walls and less interesting bits of furniture, and Saya loved spending hours lounging on the couch, cuddled with a one of them.

After coming home a few too many times to her reading alone, Solomon decided to join her, picking a book at random from one of the shelves and reading alongside her. Saya never minded, of course. In fact, his warmth near her made the silence very enjoyable.

She had spent so many days in Okinawa trying to lose herself, tried to listen to the sounds of the planet without hearing screams from her past or seeing Haji's or Diva's pained faces. Every time she tried to figure out _who_ she was, she was reminded of _what_ she was.

A weapon, a monster…

_A killer._

_**An abomination.**_

She had told Haji of her fears and insecurities, her nightmares and disfigured daydreams, but he hadn't helped her—Haji just wasn't _able_ to.

And Saya knew that is what she liked so much about Solomon. Solomon had reached a certain level of enlightenment when it came to the world—he knew what he was, where he had come from, and who he was trying to be. The defector chevalier never really spoke about his chiropteran life before meeting her in Lycee. When they did exchange the occasional war story, he admitted to being ashamed and sickened by his actions, but also confessed that he had long since come to the realization that you can do nothing about the past but accept it and learn from it.

And that is when she realized what the stinging twinge in her heart was every time she thought of Haji. It was Solomon's choice to become a chevalier (or so she assumed), but Haji had been forced—no, not even forced; he had been thrust into his new life without even a glance back into his human one. Saya had tried to save him, but she had killed him. She destroyed everything he ever knew about himself, and was responsible for all the situations he would never come to terms with and forgive himself for.

Haji would never forgive himself for being unable to stop Saya from hating herself, which in any of the forms it took stemmed from _being_ herself, a chiropteran. Haji, her beautiful, sweet Haji, would never accept the past, because it is was what tore them from the happy future they could have had together.

Every time Haji looked at her and smiled, every time they made love and every time he held her face and tickled her cheek with a soft _I love you_, he was really apologizing. He was whispering his agonized heart into her soul.

_I am sorry. I am horrible. _

_But I love you. _

_I have hurt you, but loving you will make it better._

Saya knew Haji loved her, how could he not, when she loved him so much? But the love he had for her hadn't translated into their journey as chiropterans, and no matter how many times she assured him of her happiness, or ensured her love, all he saw was a way of repentance for the crimes and injustices he felt she had suffered.

But when Solomon sat next to her, a tiny smile on his face and a glass for her in his hand, she felt so at peace with the world.

She would see her fiery past, full of suffering and tears and screams, and the realization that through even the most wretched past can come a bright and content future, filled her head.

For every life she took, and every sword she held, there was a dream. She could finally forgive herself, and recognize that through all of the mistakes and blood of the past had come a happy present, where her family, and the world, lived in the light.

Through all of the conversations between her and Solomon about early 19th century philosophers, Freudian analyses, historical fallacies, and every author imaginable, Saya had to wonder sadly whether or not Haji had seen this coming.

He had tried his whole life to make her content. He supported her, carried her burdens, protected her, and even promised to kill her in order to guarantee her happiness. Haji had loved her when love made her want to live, and he had lived with her when she couldn't live without him.

But what if Haji had realized the truth about their tragic love? What if long ago, during her last sleep, he recognized that try as they might, their love for each other would not bring each other redemption? Happiness?

Haji's kindness was too cruel—he wanted to allow her the opportunity to evaluate her situation without actually being in it. He had sent her away to Solomon to think. And what time she should have used to adjust to the idea of returning home to a life with Haji, their respective realizations only making their bond stronger, was spent on realizing that she and her beloved chevalier had very different views of the future.

Saya reminded herself this was all conjecture. Haji had merely recognized that she needed time to think. It was considerate, really, since she vehemently denied any desire to kill chiropterans ever again. Haji was just being Haji, allowing her to come to her own conclusions at her own pace, and making peace with them any way necessary.

And this way just happened to involve Solomon Goldsmith.

Because of Haji sending her here, she was finally able to begin forgiving and loving herself again. She was ready to be happy and content with life.

But then why wasn't Haji there with her, enjoying it, too?

Why had he sent her away, really?

Saya shook the heartbreaking thoughts from her head every time they appeared. Haji had given her some time to think, that's all—a little breathing room before they started married life. And it happened to come at a seemingly convenient time, too; why not give her some time off while they all finish the dirty work?

She just missed him so much. Even if their love was just amplified friendship, that was fine. Haji loved her. What else mattered? She could have all of the fanciful thoughts and giddy nerves she wanted, but when it came down to it, all she had for sure was Haji, for an eternity. No matter what happened, Haji was her soul-mate, who adored her in his own special way that no one could match.

Even if it was love born out of a guilty conscience, Saya would hold onto it.

And when Haji was through, and Red Shield mission accomplished, she would leave. She would leave hand and hand with Haji, her faithful chevalier through blood, obligation, and guilt, and she would be able to be happy.

And though she had finally made peace with her love for Haji, Saya was left in tears, and didn't know why.

---

A few weeks passed, and the leaves started to change color and fall from the branches. Even though Solomon often took her around the city, fascinating her with the American weather (reminding her of France during the late autumnal evenings) it didn't take Saya long to read through the books he had collected.

They were relaxing and reading in the living room, a small fire roaring in the background, its soft crackling harmonizing with the silent air between them and the oranges in its flames mirroring the last traces of dusk outside. Saya was nestled in her favorite place on the couch with her legs and feet curled under an afghan, and Solomon leaned casually against the counter bar, a book in one hand and a glass of blood in the other.

"You like that book quite a bit, don't you?" Solomon's voice cut the silence, but it didn't surprise her. His sound had become very familiar to her by now.

"Not particularly," Saya answered blankly. She turned to the second to last page, almost done with it.

She could feel Solomon's puzzled face. "Oh really?" he asked. "I thought for sure it must be one of your favorites; I must see you with it every other day."

She traced the last few sentences with her finger and skimmed along them for the umpteenth time. She kept the last page of _Crime and Punishment_ open, however, and sighed.

"I just find it sort of interesting."

Solomon moved towards her and sat in the chair next to the edge of the couch she lay propped against. "Interesting? How so?"

"I can relate with him so much throughout the whole thing, his mistakes, the consequences, his struggles, but I've never quite understood the ending. I mean, throughout the whole story Sofia and Raskolnikov are trying to come to terms with their own actions and deceits and shame, and the end just never made sense to me. He confesses and bears the cross, gets sentenced to work in Siberia, and she goes with him."

Solomon stared at her quizzically.

"I'm not sure I follow. What's not to get?"

"Well, even though it was an unhappy ending, Dostoevsky still wrote the last bits with hope. He made Sofia's faith and pure heart able to influence his redemption.

"I never quite…understood that part."

Solomon looked contemplative for a moment and stared at her, puzzled still.

"You mean you've never felt that people are able to influence each other?"

"No," she clarified, "it's not like that. I know people influence each other; I think that's what makes people, people. But I've never comprehended the idea of people being able to redeem other people."

"I don't think it's so much that Sofia redeemed him that it is Raskolnikov being influenced by her strength and having that inspire him to redeem himself," Solomon pointed out.

Saya closed the book. "Even still, she felt the same alienation and shame that he did, and in the end, she just became a good example for him to follow, and he shoved all of his weight on her."

"But they truly loved each other," Solomon countered. "It wasn't that he poured his guilty soul onto her—Sofia just happened to be there during his moral struggle, and she ended accepted him anyway, and that beauty and strength led him to realize he, too, had to accept his punishment."

Saya felt herself becoming frustrated with the conversation, and the discussion itself seemed to be becoming less and less about the book.

"Then if she accepted his past crimes, then why did he need to suffer?" She felt her soul pouring out with the words. "The story is about redemption and morality, and if he saw that in her than he didn't need to turn himself in at all!"

"But redemption doesn't work that way!" Solomon actually stood to amplify the point. "Sometimes you have to suffer! Raskolnikov thought that he was above the moral ramifications, but soon guilt overcame him! It was through his meetings with Sofia that he was able to walk the path of moral regeneration.

"And it was their journey to Siberia together that made the story tolerable! Instead of casting her aside once he confessed, her strength and goodness continued to enlighten him as they walked hand in hand from perdition. And that made her his savior!"

At the last word, Saya looked up at him from a few feet away. Their eyes locked and she couldn't read the emotions on his face. There wasn't anything negative, but Solomon's eyes looked so bright suddenly, and his expression was earnest.

Saya realized she, too, was standing, and Solomon took a few steps toward her.

"Have you really never felt that way, Saya?" His melodious voice was soft and sincere. "Have you really never been saved?"

But looking back, she had been. George, Riku and Kai, Min and Kaori and Mao, David, Julia, Joel and Diva, Haji, _Solomon_—all of them reminded her that the obstacles that blocked her happy and content future needed to overcome, whether it be to fight, to love, or just to live.

Indeed, in her long lifetime, Saya had had many saviors.

One of them was standing before her now.

"I know that I have been saved," Solomon said gently when Saya remained silent.

"I know." Saya looked down nervously. She saw her past experiences with Solomon flash before her eyes. The night on his balcony 30 years ago stood out the most. His voice, so assured and confident and true, had confessed that only her heart had touched ever him so deeply, and had changed him completely.

"I mean, I know what you mean," she corrected, the memory overwhelming her and making her blush. "I know exactly what you mean."

Solomon looked as though he might interject, but he paused and smiled.

"Of course you do," he said pleasantly, though it sounded almost like a sigh. "Everyone has been influenced by other people in their lifetimes…some more than others. But I agree that that book is very interesting. I find that its events often parallel real life." He practically laughed at the last part, as if taunting her raising heart beat.

"Agreed," Saya laughed nervously. She was happy that the air in the room was now happy and light again, though Solomon's comments still left her a little shaky. His gaze was now focused on the bookshelf standing near the fireplace, and Saya noticed he had picked up the copy of _Crime and Punishment_ and was placing back on the shelf.

"You've read all of these already, haven't you?" Solomon asked her with his eyes still focused on the shelf.

"Yeah, I have," she replied with the smile. She walked towards the shelf. "I think I've read all of the books you have here."

"Really?" He seemed reluctant to believe it. "What about the ones in the hall?"

"Read them. I had no idea you enjoyed mystery books."

"The parlor?"

"Finished. I think the poetry there suits you."

"Even the tiny shelf—"

"Hidden under my bedside table?" Saya laughed, interrupting him, "I can't imagine a better place to hold the classics."

Solomon chuckled to himself. "Oh my, I hadn't realized I'd left you alone so much. What a horrible host I am. You've been here a little less than two months and you've already cleaned me out."

"I just read fast," Saya reassured him, laughing. "You haven't been neglecting me or anything."

"Glad to know you don't mind me hanging around."

"Well, it _is_ your apartment, you know."

Solomon shrugged, but seemed to accept that answer with a smile. He looked at the book shelf for a few more seconds before turning to her insightfully.

"What about the bookshelf in my room?"

Saya was shocked that he would suggest that, and assumed that it was because she'd always held someone's sleeping area as part of their personal space. But then again, she never had any qualms about Solomon going into _her_ room.

"No, I've never been in your room." It was almost the truth. It's not like she ever made a habit of it.

"Oh, most of my favorites are in there. I just assumed you'd have stumbled upon them. Here, I'll show you."

Solomon took her hand casually, and led her into him room. Even though she often walked past the open door, Saya had forgotten how clean it was. It was almost sterile, the bed perfectly made, surfaces seemingly untouched and dusted. The air hung so heavy in it, and it smelled of crisp suits and vaguely like cologne, just like Solomon did. He seemed nearly out of place disturbing it, and if he hadn't been tugging at her hand, she doubted she would have walked in so abruptly.

He released her hand and walked over to the ceiling-tall bookshelf facing the bed. Saya stood there a moment in the middle of the room awkwardly before stepping closer to him. He was scanning the shelves, pulling out various books and handing them to her. He muttered to himself about the books, and he leaned over her, sandwiching her between him and bookshelf.

Solomon didn't seem to realize how close he had come to her until she had attempted to place the pile of books on the bed and bumped into his chest. Saya had expected him to stagger back at the pressure of her body against his, but although he looked shocked, he didn't move. The red queen saw that she could easily slip under his arm and escape the awkwardness of the situation completely, but something inside of her urged her to stay, and face him.

After a few moments, she forgot that it was supposed to be uncomfortable. Saya found herself completely captivated by his bright eyes, twinkling like aquamarine gemstones under lashes that seemed wasted on a man. Solomon's other arm reached around her and his hand climbed to meet her face.

He slipped a tendril of hair away from her face and curled it delicately between him fingers.

"Saya, I—"

Before he could finish, a sharp ringing came from the top of his dresser. The coat he had worn over his suit to work that day was sitting there, his cell phone still inside one of the pockets. Saya looked up before he did, his gaze lingering on her just a second longer.

"You should get that." She was surprised how steady her voice sounded. "It's probably your work. You left early again today, didn't you?"

"I did," he replied after a moment, walking over to the coat and silencing the offender. "Excuse me a moment?"

Saya nodded and he stepped out into the hall to answer the phone. She could hear him talking to someone pleasantly, but she chose not to eavesdrop. Instead, she skimmed the titles on the bindings of the books, analyzing the collection stored there. It certainly helped take her mind off of what happened.

Or, rather, what didn't happen.

There were more modern titles than she expected. In fact, many of the names weren't familiar to her at all. She was relieved at that—at least it would provide some interesting material for the coming weeks; she shelf was so large that it would take her at least that long to get through it once, even with reading at her speed.

One book jumped out at her especially, though. Out of all of the recent-looking edgings and covers, this one looked positively ancient. It was leather bound, it looked like, with golden etchings throughout that she couldn't identify by the spine alone.

Solomon reentered before she could reach for it.

"Saya, I'm sorry," he said with an apologetic sigh. "It seems there was a mix up and they need me to run back and grab some new papers to look over."

"That's alright," she smiled. "Don't worry, Solomon, go ahead."

"Glenn said that he was coming up this way anyway and could meet me halfway. It's still early, we haven't gotten dinner yet. If you'd like to come with me, it'll only take a few minutes; we can get something on the way back."

Saya could tell that his grin was trying to coax her into going with him, but she could feel her gaze suspiciously returning to the old book on the shelf. For some reason she was just itching to reach and read through it, whatever it was. She shook her head but continued to smile.

"No, that's okay," she said. "I'm not ready. You go ahead."

"Are you sure?" He pressed. "It will be very quick. And you look fine. I even know a great place just out of town."

The book was screaming at her now. Saya was surprised Solomon didn't comment on her constant eye movement back to the shelf. For some reason, strangely, she didn't feel comfortable asking her host which book it was, even though it was in plain sight and propped up with all the rest of the normal books.

She was just anxious to get him to leave.

"Well," Saya compromised in an attempt to get him to leave, smiling in her own special way, "we can go out when you come back. I can be ready by then."

Solomon looked disappointed and pouted slightly before accepting it with a graceful chuckle and smile.

"Alright." He slipping his coat on, more for appearance than for necessity—Saya knew it took a lot for a chevalier to become genuinely cold. Solomon seemed to like her compromise, and rustled her hair playfully before leaving.

"I'll be back in a little more than half an hour. Let's go some place fancy when I get back."

She didn't bother to mention that almost all of the places they went to were fancy, but she knew he pointed it out because more than once they'd gone out and she'd felt underdressed. Saya ignored her jittery anxiousness and smiled as she waved to him from the hallway.

"Sounds good to me."

He called out his normal 'call me if you need anything' before he left, and as soon as he closed the door, Saya went straight into her room, figuring that getting dressed right then would be much smarter than getting lost in a book and forgetting completely, which had admittedly happened before.

She practically threw her closet open and rustled though the clothes she'd ended up collecting inside. She quickly decided on the low-cut black dress Solomon had bought for her on her first day there, feeling happy the attractive thing finally got some use. After slipping it on, Saya tossed on a few chic silver bangles onto each wrist and pair of thin silver earrings longer than her hair was, and thanked Solomon's inner over-indulgence that she was able to dress in less than two minutes. She stepped into some black pumps and was back in Solomon's room in less than fifteen seconds.

Saya felt her hands trembling as she brought the book down. The heels helped her reach the shelf it was on, which would have been chin-height at Solomon's level. She briefly wondered whether or not she should have asked if she could remain in his room once he left, to continue searching for books, but before she knew it she was sitting on his serene bed, opening up to the first page.

The pages were yellowed with age, but it had obviously been kept in pristine condition. She flipped through a few black pages before finding one with actual handwriting.

_Ad eundum quo nemo ante iit_

_A posse ad esse_

_1830_

Saya traced the words with her finger carefully. The book wasn't lying, it was certainly that old—the calligraphy was penned by quill-tip it looked like, and the pages felt as delicate on onion peels in her hands.

She honestly wasn't sure what to make of it.

The reluctant queen felt a connection to the artifact lying in front of her. It smelled like a world long forgotten by time, and the secrets inside must be an undiscovered treasure trove of history. It was probably a diary of some sort.

Flipping the through the pages at random with a wistful smile, Saya realized it was probably Solomon's diary. After all, he'd never actually told her when he was born. It was actually very possible that it belonged to him.

She opened a page at random, and closed her eyes dreamily. She could just imagine the stories held in there; Solomon was absolutely the kind of person that would keep a journal. He probably wrote about his early life—she could see it now: A fancy house to grow up in, exclusive schools, dreams and disappointments, too. She imagined him growing up in someplace sunny and bright, surrounded by smiles and family. Solomon probably spent his free time writing in it throughout his entire human life, by the length of it. In fact, he must have written quite a lot once his chiropteran life began, as well.

Saya was more anxious than ever to read it. The page she had flipped to was maybe two hundred pages in—about one fourth of the way into it. She began reading excitedly.

_May 13__th__, 1870~_

_The test boy has just received approval from Joel to be introduced to Saya. We have decided to begin their formal interaction exactly one week from now. I have arranged for the boy, who will be presented as _Haji_, to be well versed in song and dance, and his disposition seems to be finely controlled at this point. Within the first month after the introduction, Joel and I expect to see a certain amount of---_

Saya jumped back, so shocked she stumbled over her heals and landed with her back against the wall. Her hands covered her mouth, stifling her horrified scream.

_Oh my God…_

_Oh my __**GOD**__…_

It wasn't Solomon's diary at all.

It was Amshel's.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Hohoho surprise after surprise, eh? I won't leave too much about the next chapter this time, except that IF YOU EVER WANT TO SEE IT, PLEASE REVIEW! I have already started writing it, but I am losing a little faith (author guilt-author guilt-author guilt-author guilt).

Though I will give you this—You will see an entirely different side of Solomon…

Oh, and here you go, just in case some of you don't obsess over dead languages and 19th century Russian Literature…I mean, I certainly don't…0_0

_Crime and Punishment_: A Russian novel written by Fyodor Dostoevsky. It follows the struggles of Raskolnikov, the main character, as he murders and old woman (his motive remains unclear, though I believe it was money) and an innocent bystander who saw him. Believing himself to be above morality and guilt, he tries to live out his life, but a meeting with a pure hearted Christian prostitute named Sofia and haunting dreams lead him to confess his crimes. He accepts his punishment and is sentenced to work in Siberia. However, the ending ends on a hopeful note, as Sofia goes with him as his moral guide, living in the town next to the prison.

_Ad eundum quo nemo ante iit—To boldly go where no man has gone before._

_A posse ad esse—From possibility to actuality._

PLEASE REVIEW!!!


	14. Tell Me part 1

A/N: Oh my God, I am so sorry it's taken me so long to give you this chapter! And after I promised to put a new one up every 2 weeks, too—Yikes! That really does make me feel bad, and I do apologize for the wait.

But I hope you really enjoy this chapter! I worked VERY hard on it, but I think it's only fair to warn you that I take a few liberties in this one. The years on the entries probably don't correspond exactly with what the anime tells you, but if you actually try and put that time line together based on just the anime, you'll…well… go insane and take almost a month to update your story. SOO just trust me and go with the flow with this.

Oh, and the back-stories and everything are based off of the BLOOD+ official novels, with only a few variations made on those.

Thank you very much for the reviews so far. Please enjoy!!

--

Chapter 14: Tell me (part 1)

-The Diary-

_This could be the end of everything  
So why don't we go somewhere only we know?  
Somewhere only we know_

Oh simple thing, where have you gone?  
I'm getting old and I need something to rely on  
So tell me when you're gonna let me in  
I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin

_(Keane)_

--

It was simple. She started from the beginning. Of everything.

_Tell me the truth, Amshel._

--

_April 10__th__, 1832~_

_As my first week as Joel Goldsmith's assistant comes to a close, I am left with a feeling of unbridled potential. When my professor recommended me to study under Joel, I was expecting a mere sliver of the knowledge and history he holds here. Every moment that has passed since my first day under him I am reminded of my passions since childhood. Dissecting insects, plants, and tiny animals—constantly taking things apart and trying to put them back together. My first conversation with Joel had me telling him of my experiences with biology and anatomy. After hours of discussing ecology and anthropology, he revealed to me his belief in Lamarckism and the idea that there could be a species of animal more advanced than humans._

_It was an absolutely blasphemous idea to begin with, but for the rest of the week all I could think of was the discovery of life in another form. Religion and tradition seem to mean nothing to the man Joel Goldsmith, and his disregard for the sanctity of life if both terrifying and truly inspiring._

--

_May 2nd, 1832~_

_Today I finished Lamarck's _Recherches sur l'organisation des corps vivants _and _Philosophie__zoologique._ I had no idea such theories even existed outside the world of heretics, and Joel has opened my eyes to the world of unconventional science. Just earlier today we dissected several animals of various species, taking them apart and studying each bit one by one. It was astonishing how differently I viewed the subjects after analyzing Lamarck's theory-- __inheritance of acquired characters. _

_Among the various species of rats we found and dissected under the laboratories hidden underneath the zoo, Joel and I discovered amazing changes from the subjects we collected, and studies on the same species done years earlier. Traits necessary for survival—claw length and pelt color for example, have changed slightly from recorded data as little as 100 years ago. Joel believes it may be a pattern that all animals follow, including humans._

--

_September 18__th__, 1832~_

_Joel and I have come to the conclusion that it is indeed possible for humans to inherit acquired traits necessary for survival. We have concluded that the human body's ability to adapt has given the capability of picking and choosing qualities and characteristics that will make survival possible. Life seems to have originated in Africa, and since then, the human race has adapted their skin tones, hair color, height, and even eye shape, and all of these seem to have logical reasoning behind them. Whether it is for survival, or perhaps convenience, the human body over time has discovered the ability to change, or as Joel theorizes—_evolve_._

--

_December 25__st__, 1832~_

_Based on the research of the past few months, Joel has concluded that there must be a new species unknown to humans yet. However, it is not merely a new animal or insect; he believes that there exists a creature very similar to humans, but an entirely different kind. He told me that just like snakes, birds, or cats, humans must have different species branching out from their genus. When I suggested that this had happened among people via skin color and language, he disagreed, arguing that there had to be more advancement, or at least, more variation._

_Our research regarding that certain useful traits in animals will be inherited over ones unnecessary for survival has shown that he may be correct. If humans are in fact not divine creatures made in the likeness of God, but are instead just another animal wandering the Earth, it is possible he is right._

--

_February 2__nd__, 1833~_

_Today Joel left to visit Iceland after hearing about an auction of human oddities. They supposedly have many rare collectibles pertaining to the human race, and particularly those pertaining to the possible 'evolution' of species._

_Joel seems quite certain that he will be able to acquire something of great value there, and he insists that an old friend, who happens to the one who came to possess many of the specimens being sold, is certain that one piece in particular will be an excellent addition to the zoo._

_I will admit I eagerly await Joel's return. Since I first accepted the idea of humans, not only animals, evolving, the creatures at the zoo no longer interest me. I have spent my life being fascinated by creatures that exist, but I now share Joel's passion for creatures that have not yet been discovered No thought brings me greater pleasure than the idea that somewhere there exists a creature more advanced than humans, and if such a creature does indeed out there, I want nothing more than to examine and analyze it._

_--_

_March 18__th__, 1833~ _

_Joel finally returned from Iceland, and he arranged for me to meet him into the deepest dungeon located under the zoo. We had previously used that particular area for dissecting live subjects to observe them with their natural integrity, so my expectations were very high._

_But I was not at all prepared for what he had gathered there._

_Across the iron table lay what looked like a cross between a thin, mummified ape, and an elongated bat. It appeared to have been dead for decades, perhaps even centuries, but it's hide was perfectly preserved, leather-like but almost scaly in its mummified state. At first I thought the face was nearly crushed, but on closer inspection I observed the skull was practically as well kept as the rest of it. It almost resembled a human face, in fact._

_Upon further examination I found a membrane extending from what would have been the wrists to the underarms, and finally ending at the middle of the torso. The creature's arms were both extended, with the membrane forming a type of wing that gave it the initial appearance of an oversized bat._

_The belly looked swollen and enlarged, and we briefly considered if perhaps the creature was pregnant when it died._

_Joel stepped back and asked me to do the same. Finally, he questioned whether or not I realized the importance of the creature before me._

_Suddenly, I grasped the significance of the mummy. The bone and facial structure, the obvious organ placement, even the number of digits on the appendages—they were all humanoid._

_He informed me we are referring to it by the name the original owner had given it. Saya._

--

_April 30__th__, 1833~_

_Joel is convinced that Saya is an advanced form of humans that somehow became extinct. When I suggested that perhaps this creature was a more primitive animal, he countered and proved me wring immediately. _

_Saya had achieved flight, he pointed out, and the cells we studied for countless hours show many skin samples similar to our own, but more complex. Saya has every basic component that humans do, but more. The demonic outward appearance gives the wrong impression on what lies underneath, which is a very similar bone structure, but with joints more complicated and multifaceted. Joel and I had to literally saw through the armory skin of the beast to reach the bones and tissue and organs within the torso, and we found 2 cocoons occupying the abdomen. We believe that the creature was indeed pregnant at the time of her death, and that these cocoons are some sort of offspring._

_After cutting them out of the body, Joel and I decided that our attentions should go to analyzing these cocoons. So far we have been able to find no concrete evidence that this creature has any direct connection to the human evolutionary chain, but if we are able to examine the earliest stages of life within this beast, we may be able to discover a relationship._

--

_July 29__th__, 1883~_

_Every attempt to open the cocoons have proven fruitless. Sawing, cutting, even attempting the crack them open—to no avail. Even when we successfully penetrated its webby outer shell, it healed instantly, with any marks we made completely regenerated. Joel and I are at a loss of what to do._

--

_August 2__nd__, 1883~_

_Still nothing. The cocoons refuse to open. We have tried everything to open them, but still we have achieved nothing. Joel and I are beginning to lose hope._

--

_August 4__th__, 1883~_

_Finally, success! We were once again attempting to saw open the cocoons, and it happened. My hand slipped, and the scalpel jabbed strait into my hand. As the blood flowed from my hand, it pooled freely onto one of the cocoons. The webby membrane absorbed it instantly, sucking the blood into itself like water to dirt. I poured the blood that was still in my hand onto the other cocoon, and it, too, soaked it up._

_Moments later, they both began pulsating, and on further inspection we heard faint heartbeats that appeared to actually be coming from inside them. After only a few more droplets of blood, clawing could be heard from inside of the cocoons, and suddenly tiny fingers began ripping apart the shells. It took no more than two whole minutes for the webs to be torn apart completely, and what we saw squirming in front of us will continue to amaze me for the rest of my life—_

--

Saya stopped reading to steady her breath, and calm down. She didn't want, nor need, to read what came directly after that.

She recalled with painful clarity the afternoon she had abandoned Kai, Riku, and Haji, and had met the youngest incarnation of Joel for the very first time. He had been very cordial (a trait that seemed to be prominent in the young men given that name), and accepted her request that she learn about her past, and that had involved reading Joel Goldschmidt's diary in its entirety.

After this passage was the decision to separate them, which after watching Diva's daughters frolic happily together without any antagonism, only strengthened her assurance that that was the biggest mistake humanity ever made.

It was an even worse decision than giving them life in the first place, which for the longest time Saya believed to be the largest tragedy possible. No, living with Solomon had shown her that it is at least feasible to live in this world, even as a chiropteran.

Maybe if she and Diva hadn't been separated…Perhaps if they had grown up together, they would have at least had a chance. Even if they were both just Joel and Amshel's guinea pigs, they would have at least had each other.

But no, they had divided them, torn them apart from each other without even telling them. Saya had been given the perfect life—luxurious gowns, extensive lessons and studies to keep her mind occupied, and she had even been given Haji.

And Diva was given nothing, and it was really that. Absolute nothing—a life devoid of any love or affection. A life without interaction, knowledge, sunlight, any sort of freedom at all. Even the life of a barn animal would have been more pleasant; they were at least killed when they were needed.

Saya shuddered at the thought. The red queen was Joel's test subject, but the blue queen had been_ Amshel's_. All of the things they knew about chiropterans, the horrible experiments they did, had all been done on her alone.

A mixture of anger and fiery curiosity engulfed her. Saya recalled the night at the MET, when Amshel had held her back from interrupting Diva's performance, and hissed in her ear that she was correct that Diva should never have been released from the tower.

"_You are right, Diva should never have been released," Amshel had taunted her. "If you hadn't freed her, she would have remained mine, and mine alone."_

Amshel was…a monster. Even Joel's diary hadn't been written with such selfish detachment. Joel was wrong—his whole philosophy and curiosity was faulted, but he had been diluted, driven crazy by inspiration to create something new.

Joel had tried to use his hands to create, but as flawed and imperfect as it was, his dream had never ruined something.

Amshel's had, though. His dream of new creatures was based on his fantasy of experimenting and examining every living thing that existed in the natural, mortal world. When he was done with that, he looked inside the bizarre, immortal one.

Saya remembered looking into his cold eyes once in Joel's study. He found her presence annoying, she knew it, but she was far too poised and self-important to care what he thought. Looking back, she realized how a researcher may find her proud and vain manner irritating, but it wasn't until much later that she understood why he despised her so. After having her twin at his complete disposal, how could he stand Saya having an actual will?

She should have noticed it sooner, really, how close Diva was to him. Saya wondered what happened between them in that tower, for all of those years. She had befriended Diva years before the tragedy on Joel's birthday, but Amshel had been her only connection to anything long before that.

What had Amshel done to her all of that time? What had happened to her while Saya was being treated like a princess?

It was about time she found out exactly how much of a monster Amshel was.

--

_August 4, 1843,_

_Exactly ten years ago today, Saya and the creature in the tower were 'born'. While their bodies should be at the peak of childhood, they look as though they have reached adulthood. Joel and I are fascinated by this, and we are curious if they will continue to age this way._

_Joel has made the decision to make Saya his primary experiment, and had decided to leave the test subject in solely my take. He seemed almost nervous to tell me, but in truth I could not be more thrilled. Something about the test subject entrances me, and I cannot explain the emotions rushing through me when I enter her cell._

_At first I was taken aback by Joel insistence that we not name the subject in the tower, however, I now see the benefits of her remaining nameless. Saya has grown into a perfectly normal human, and hasn't been told that she is anything less than just that. But the test subject has none of these human tendencies, and there is no one to object the experiments I carry out on her._

_She heals remarkable fast. Human bodies have the ability to slowly heal over time, but the subject's body heals even the more fatal injuries almost instantly. Just last week I ran her through with a bayonet, and she healed in less than three minutes._

_It must be noted that the amount of blood she ingests directly corresponds to how quickly her body heals. Joel tells me he has observed the same with Saya, though she consumes only one glass of blood a day, while the test subject can go through an entire person in one sitting._

_Joel has informed me that the minds of these creatures are quite complex. He has mentioned on several occasions that Saya has absorbed all of the information, empathies, and emotions just like any person, and they have come as natural to her as they would any normal human. _

_It is quite remarkable, especially since the test subject shows no such reactions. In fact, she has no preconceived notions on humanity at all. She kills willingly, and views humans as a food source only. I had expected at least a little reluctance, as there have been many recorded instances of feral people being raised in the wild, and still having some of the morals found in modern society. The test subject is the complete opposite, a blank slate ready to soak up any ideas given to her._

--

_May 31__st__, 1850,_

_Moves to teach the test subject speech has been very successful. She retains information at an amazing rate, and she speaks as though she has been doing so since birth. For the first thirteen years of her existence, I never said one word to her, keeping myself completely controlled in her presence. After all of those years of silence, broken only by the screams and yells from the slaves and servants she would feed on, the test subject is eager to learn and establish connections._

_I started by just talking to her like I would talk to any other human being, and after only a few months she completely understood me, and in only a few weeks she began responding back to me in tiny sentences. She now seems to have a complete grasp of the French, English, and German languages. However, to avoid unnecessary thoughts and feelings, I refuse to introduce books or any sort of outside knowledge into the equation._

--

_November 16__th__, 1857_

_Joel informs me that Saya is becoming quite skilled at the cello. It makes sense that he would have her studying music and the more abstract instruments—she has been alive for twenty-five years and her mind continues to grow and evolve, while her body remains unchanged. Saya has mastered the piano, violin, flute, and almost all woodwinds, and both she and the test subject keep the form of young women anywhere from sixteen to nineteen years old._

_After looking through Joel's research, I have decided to introduce music into the test subject's life. I had a phonograph_ _brought to the zoo, and I set it up right outside of the subject's cell. I will see how she reacts to opera and instrumental music._

_--_

_January 20__th__, 1860~_

_I noticed a change in the test subject after only two months. A magnificent voice rang from the walls, singing a tune I had never heard before. The test subject seems to have tapped into her natural instincts in response to the music introduced into her system. I had Joel inspect the subject himself, and he believes that it is a mating call she is singing out. I asked if Saya had shown any of the same signs, but he answered that she has grown up in a far too human environment to be that in tune with her primal instincts._

_At Joel's approval, I decided to see how the test subject responded to sexual advances. I thought she would be more consenting, considering she would be within the human child-bearing years. She initially refused to go forward with the mating process, but she warmed up to it after a year. After having it forced on her, she is much easier to deal with._

_The test subject has actually become attached to me. That aspect makes it very easy to conduct experiments on her. I actually severed her arm at the elbow in the latest experiment, to study how fast the test subject would heal after days without ingesting blood. _

_She convulsed on the floor, blood flying from the wound. All I needed to do was hold the severed arm next to the wound, and it reattached itself within minutes. She was ravenous afterward, but I have decided to continue the study to see how long she can last without feeding. I was tempted to try serving her human food, instead of just the blood she has been feeding for the last 28 years, but I would not want her to get the idea that she is anything but an animal._

_I tried mating with her once again before I left for the day. For the first time in months she tried to object, and actually attempted to appeal to my sentiment. _

"_Please," she huddled against the wall, pushing herself away from me. "I'm just so hungry. I can't. Please stop! No!"_

_How pathetic this creature is. If she were smarter, she would just accept it, instead of struggling._

--

Saya had to stop again, and ran with rubbery legs to the bathroom attached to Solomon's master suite. She knew it was really only minutes, but she gagged and retched into the porcelain bowl for what seemed like hours. Tears fell from her burning eyes, and it felt like they were falling from their sockets.

She wondered weakly whether it was all the blood she had been drinking lately that made her eyes glow so readily, or whether it was the emotional stress and fury that gave them fuel. Saya lifted her body off of the tile and stared at the mirror. Her eyes stared red and fiery back at her. She had never seen them shine so brightly, unless she was in the heat of battle, and once or twice when she was starving.

_This is for you, Diva, _she thought wryly.

_I never knew, sister, not until now. I always protected humans; protected _them_ from _you_._

_But if I could have, I would have killed Amshel, a human, to protect _you_ from _them.

Saya washed her face and returned to the room. She stood against the back wall and stared at the journal in disgust.

"You bastard," she hissed. "You disturbed, perverted _fuck."_

She sat back down on the bed after hesitating, and stared at the pages without reading them. She didn't need to read what happened next. Just like before, she already knew.

In 1863, she met Diva for the first time, and gave her that beloved name. _The princess with the beautiful voice, _she recalled. She would never forget that day. Saya was sure Amshel knew about their meetings, at least after Haji arrived he did. She made less and less of an effort to keep their meetings secret as time went on, and she even remembered seeing Amshel roaming the grounds near the ruins where she was kept, and she knew he saw her, as well.

And after that she knew he wrote about more experiments, wrote about their blood crystallizing, about Haji. Just thinking about the reason behind Haji made her want to vomit, now.

Saya was given 13 years with him—_13 years_ to establish a connection, one deep enough to have them 'mate' with each other in a way that didn't ruin Joel and Amshel's experiments.

But Diva…wasn't as lucky. She didn't have a chance, not by a long shot, to remain sane after that. Raped, constantly, by the only person she knew. Forced into submission in every attempt to produce an offspring, or at least that's what she assumed it was for. He could have just been having fun, for all she knew, and Saya certainly didn't want to read more and find out.

She flipped through the rest of the pages without really taking an interest in them. Saya had been to blinded by rage that none of the few words she passed really phased her. That is, until she read the date she had come to.

July 5th, 1885, she read.

Amshel must have been a chevalier by then. She took solace in that. After all, life for Diva after the Bordeaux massacre, and bloody and conflict-filled as she was sure it was, must have been like paradise for her, after what she had been through. Amshel had been a cruel researcher back then, but after being turned into a chevalier, he must have protected and cared for her as though she was a goddess.

It certainly explained a lot, at least. The diary was an account of truly despicable events, but Saya felt more connected with her sister now than she ever had before. Knowing everything Diva had been through before meeting her sister understandable.

Saya was lost in thought, and before she knew it her hand had flipped to page much farther than she'd meant to, at the approximate middle of the large book. She peered down, and what was written there glued her eyes to the page.

--_It appears one of my nephews, Solomon Goldsmith, has gone AWOL from the military._

And just like that, she was entranced once again by the journal before her. She read aloud.

--

_May 15__th__, 1914~_

_I caught wind today that the patriarch of the English branch of the Goldsmith family has met with considerable hardship. I have kept tabs on all of the various members and relations to Joel's family, and this particular division is the only one to have kept any variant of the name, which we happen to share. _

_It appears that a member of my extended family, one of my nephews, Solomon Goldsmith, has gone AWOL from the military. At twenty years old, he had reached a certain level of fame among the ranks of the British troops, but after losing most of his comrades to the new chlorine gas, and being severely injured from the battles before and afterward, he absolutely refused to return._

_With Diva still asleep, and my mind tired of the mundane nonsense surrounding myself without her presence, I decided to intervene. Despite my lack of appearances at almost any of the functions they hold, I am still held with much regard within the family._

_I arrived at the summer home they were staying at in the English countryside, and they appeared absolutely livid at their youngest son for defecting. I requested to sit in on their meeting with him, and although they tried to refuse out of embarrassment, they were easily coerced._

_When he walked into the room, his limp was obvious and he was still bandaged and bruised. He was surprisingly calm, and ignored a servants help when he attempted to help him to his seat._

"_I don't want to kill people." That was all he said in response to his father's angry interrogation._

"_Do you have any idea what you're doing?! What you are doing to this family?! Your brothers have all made their sacrifices for the good of the family, and you have been given the responsibility of remaining in the military. I will not take any more of your nonsense now!"_

_A woman stepped forward and tried to reason with him with obviously fake sympathy. She was far too young to be his actual mother, and I recalled reading something about his father remarrying after his first wife died._

"_You don't have to go back right away," she had said with kind smile. "You can recover completely, and then return to your active duty. But dear, really, you must think of the family when you make these decisions. It's true we all must make our sacrifices, dear, especially now that the war had started. It's important to use this to our advantage."_

"_I will not have those sacrifices be people's lives." His response was very plain, but there was cold determination in his eyes. He continued,_

"_I want to help people; I want to go back to school! I want to study medicine and save people, not kill them!"_

"_You think this is all about you, don't you?" I forgot how overly emotional humans can get, how easily riled they are. This boy's father was a perfect example. "You have no idea what you are doing! You've always been like this, thinking that the world revolves around you and what you want. Well, right now, all I want is to completely discard you from this entire family!"_

_Any normal person, especially one so young and from such a prominent family, would have backed down at such a serious threat, but Solomon actually laughed._

"_Go ahead," he said. _

_His father hit him with the back of his hand. I'll admit I was taken aback at him doing so in my pretense. Perhaps he was showing off. "You would have us abandon you? You inconsiderate brat! You realize that without us you have nothing? You would be out on the streets! Completely alone!"_

"_I'd rather be alone, than in that trench killing someone I've never met."_

_The woman sighed, "This is unbelievable…"_

_Something about Solomon's face was remarkable. I came to this house, ready to give my input on a matter concerning an insubordinate child too haughty to follow direction, but I saw much of my own drive in him. He was only a few years older than I was when I began studying under Joel, and I never thought I would see another young man that shared our same search for knowledge. There was no condescending tone in his voice, nor was there anything in it for him. He was merely a young man who was risking it all to go after his dream._

_And once, I was the very same thing._

"_You want to go to school?" I asked him. He looked up, and regarded me for the first time. _

"_Yes," he responded. "Yes, sir,' he corrected after a moment. He must have realized my identity._

"_And you have no intention of returning to the military? Or the war effort?"_

"_None whatsoever." _

"_I see."_

_On that note I excused myself. Days later, on a whim, I wrote to his parents and told them that I had decided that I should take my rebellious nephew under my wing and support him through college. I knew that they would refuse, at first, out of pride or out of genuine concern for their youngest son's wellbeing, but I made it clear that I would not take no for an answer._

_There are a chosen few in this world that are willing to follow their ambitions completely. This boy, Solomon, as pathetic and pointless as his ultimate goal is, motivation like his is worthy of a chance, at least._

_He is—_

"—To attend college in New York, at the New York University, which he was accepted into before he was forced into the military."

Solomon leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed, looking at his nails nonchalantly. After he finished Saya's sentence, and that part of the passage, he turned to her, his face completely devoid of any emotion.

"S-Solomon," Saya whispered, so surprised her voice caught in her throat. She was absolutely terrified, and wondered how long he had been standing there before he interjected. She made a move to stand up and rise from the bed and away from the diary, but he snapped his fingers twice to get her attention, and pointed back to the bed.

"Don't move," Solomon instructed, his voice still perfectly calm. "Keep reading."

"What?"

He walked towards her. Saya wanted to back away from the diary, or at least from him, but her body refused to comply. It wasn't as though he looked dangerous, or that she felt threatened; she felt guilty and intrusive, and the absolute lack of any emotion on Solomon's face proved that he was not happy.

"I knew you would find that one of these days," he sighed. "I suppose it was just a matter of time."

He reached the opposite side of the bed, but instead of sitting down beside her, he continued to look down at her.

"So keep reading. Feel free to skip over that part, though."

"No, I can't." Saya shook her head, earrings hitting her chin as she did so. "I don't want to read any more."

"I want you to," he pushed frigidly. "Do it."

"But—"

"Read. Out loud."

And she did. Saya didn't want to, but she did. To avoid discovering anything about Solomon that he may not want to share, she skipped dozens of pages ahead, starting just after Diva and Amshel fled the Russian Royal Palace.

Diva had taken the form of Anastasia, the youngest princess of the Romanov family, by sucking her blood and having Amshel dispose of the body. While Amshel went off researching the production of chiropterans, he had left his precious Diva in the hands of Grigori Rasputin, the pragmatic healer to the Romanov family. Amshel had apparently turned Rasputin at his own request, Rasputin viewing chiropterans and Diva as holy creatures, better than humans in every way, and trying to evolve humans forcefully through his research.

Yes, Saya remembered fighting him. He had taken the form of the young girl, Sonya, by then, and her father had been one of the researchers helping Amshel with the chiropteran research. They had outlived their purpose, and with Diva's long sleep ahead of them, Amshel had killed them both, Rasputin taking Sonya's place, continuing the studies until Amshel left him to die at Saya's hand.

She noticed that Solomon wasn't mentioned very much at all in the entries regarding Diva's active period, that time. He must have been a chevalier by then, if he was twenty in 1914, and Diva was only awake until 1920. Saya was tempted to ask him, but he was leaning against the wall aloofly, his gaze still hard and cold as he watched her read, and she knew it was better not to.

And then she read about the Schiff, and she choked up half-way through. She tried to keep reading, but every passage held new discoveries, and dark secrets she felt better not knowing. Saya read Amshel's immoral words and heinous ideas regarding them, and when she vehemently refused to continue, Solomon asked that she follow him into the kitchen.

"You're thirsty," he said blankly, as though that was the cause of her tears. She sat down at the table and placed the journal down in front of her. The red queen peered out through the windows across from her; the curtains were drawn open and she could see that the sun had completely disappeared, the colors it normally left behind long gone by now. She couldn't help but feel that it set the perfect tone for the picture from the past that Amshel had painted.

Solomon placed the glass in front of her, and she saw him watching her drink it out of the corner of his eye. Ever since the incident at the party, he took her nourishment very seriously. When he took the empty glass from her, Saya opened the diary again, a farther page back than before, hopefully avoiding the more painful parts she was connected to.

"You may want to save yourself the guilt," Solomon said coolly. He maneuvered himself behind her, his hands resting on top of hers, and he manipulated her arms to turn dozens of pages ahead, like a puppeteer pulling the string of a marionette.

"That section would only make you feel worse. It's all about Vietnam. Now is hardly the time for you to read into that madness. You should save yourself from further torture and just skip it."

His voice was soft and aloof, but it lacked the gentle tone he always used. Saya was surprised to see neither iciness nor anger on his lovely face. He was blank—completely neutral. It was maddening. He moved back and stood against the counter by her side, and she still shook slightly from his touch, but he made no move to calm her.

His indifferent gaze made her voice waver slightly as she continued.

--

"_May 19__th__, 1984~_

_Today I decided to stop all search for Saya's hibernating body. After discovering Haji in Hong Kong two years ago, we have reason to believe that he has left her side forever. If that is indeed the case, than we can just imagine a future without Saya at all. Without Haji's blood, she will awaken helpless and confused, and she will be easier to squash than a baby chick when we decide to locate her._

_At present, we have more important matters to focus our attentions on._

_Diva has finally accepted the possibility of producing an offspring willingly, or at least she seemed eager before her hibernation started just after January of 1974. We acquired a picture of Haji from the police and officers in Vietnam before he fled, and after showing them to her, she expressed a strong desire to mate with him, or, at least, to procure offspring. Until that moment, her mind could never focus on anything in particular for very long, but she seems serious about this. _

'_I want to be a mother," she had said. She almost seemed sincere, like a real human. It appears maternal instinct is animal intuition shared by both humans and chiropterans._

_How pathetic._

--

_August 14__th__, 1987_

_Solomon returned from Vietnam after dealing with Karl again. Karl seems to be losing his sanity, and at this rate he will be unable to take care of himself, let alone our precious Diva. Solomon seems to have faith in him, and I leave the situation in his hands, considering he will have to deal with Karl if things go out of control._

_Cinq Fleches has managed to incorporate itself into the business world quite successfully. Almost all pharmaceutical dispatch companies now list Cinq Fleches as one of their top suppliers. Until Diva awakens we cannot test how successful turning humans into chiropterans will be when her song is introduced, but based on the research from Vietnam where we observed how chiropterans that were changed by normal ingestion of her synthesized blood reacted to her singing, we can assume that once we begin the beginning stages of food production contaminated with the D-base, every human will have the ability to spontaneously and rapidly evolve into a chiropterans at the mere sound of her song._

--

_December 30__th__, 1992~_

_While conducting more research regarding Diva's potential offspring, I called in Solomon to question him on her behavior and to ask his opinion on her thoughts regarding reproduction._

_It seems that Diva's indifferent attitude toward chevalier finally reached Solomon. Apparently, right before her last hibernation, Diva rejected him. She responded very harshly and antagonistically when he made sexual advances, and refused to comply with his romantic endeavors. He seemed shaken, and this is the first time Diva has ever admitted such disdain._

_She has been slowly leading up to this behavior with all of her chevalier, although she still seems rather taken with Karl when she can find him, and when it suits her. However, this is the first time she has displayed such a negative reaction with Solomon._

"_There's no point in being with any of you anymore." He said Diva answered indifferently to every question he asked afterward. _

"_They won't give me babies, not even if I ask them to. Neither will you, Solomon. You can kneel in front of me all you want, but you won't be _family_, not like sister_ Saya_ was, not _really_."_

_When I pressed him for details he seemed amazingly detached and only slightly disturbed at her behavior. Solomon had always been Diva's favorite plaything among her chevalier, and he has been the only one she seems to choose to be around after sex. I shared my thoughts with Solomon later, and his response was surprising._

"_Diva is my queen. Nothing else. She knows that and so do I. She doesn't need my love, she needs my service."_

_I asked him what he thought about his fellow chevalier._

"_James and Karl are just a little sore. They're childish. Diva only likes _you,_ anyway. Nathan knows, though. Whatever she did to turn him into a chevalier, or whatever choice she gave him, he obviously knew what he was getting into. Not like the rest of us."_

_Solomon excused himself on that note, and I am left pondering whether he resents me at all for having Diva turn him into a chevalier. However, there seems to be a type of solace in his gaze nowadays, as if, even in his discontent and resentment, he has found a kind of peace in his eternal solitude._

_And that is exactly what it is. He is right in his idea that Diva is mine. Solomon is very astute, and seems to have realized Diva's childish nature, which only works in my favor. Research will go much faster without Diva's affection towards her chevalier, especially Karl. It is best if she stays as unemotional as possible. _

_The same thing goes for Solomon. Leaving him jaded only makes him more loyal to me, who, for all intents and purposes, gave him this life. _

--

_February, 28__th__, 1994~_

_Cinq Fleches has successfully made it's way into every home across Europe, and James and Karl are making moves to bring Cinq Fleches pharmaceuticals into America and Asia respectively. Everything is on track with the subtle inclusion of the Delta base into the human populace._

_While touring undercover this past year, Nathan reported Red Shield operatives slinking around Vietnam and Japan, most likely searching for Saya's chevalier and making sure the outbreak in Vietnam is still covered up. I'll admit that I had almost forgotten them and their attempts to thwart us after the decades since the last time they revealed themselves._

_It appears that the Red Shield has given up efforts while Saya remains in her dormant state. It is perhaps wise for them, considering they are helpless with her blood. I, on the other hand, have not been simply biding my time until Diva awakens. No, we have created a network that will eventually span the entire globe, and make everything living on it alter to Diva's liking._

_She once told me, "I want a world full of monsters so that sister won't need humans. I want a world that me and sister Saya can live in happily!"_

_I reminded her that Saya is trying to kill her, and she turned quiet for a moment, before disappearing into the next room. Every time in the past that Diva has revealed thoughts of that nature, I have quelled them and repeated that Saya is an enemy, a threat, and a traitor. It is imperative that Diva remain antagonistic towards Saya and her attempts to hinder our progress. If Diva were to give into these feelings of sympathy, she may not be able to continue with research, or even worse, she will not be willing to cooperate with our struggle against Saya._

_These can be altered, of course. Diva has never actually consented to the mating tests and the chiropteran research we conducted on her. After the Russian Revolution, just before her second hibernation, Diva informed us, after Solomon and Karl had both finished with her, that she had no intention of ever mating again, but my efforts for her to continue after she had woken up and started her active period forced her continue. _

_If she were to become sympathetic towards Saya and Red Shield, all of my progress would be wasted, and Saya could take her away, or kill her._

_However, if the mating experiments are successful, that will no longer matter._

--

"I…can't read this anymore," Saya choked out, her voice catching hoarsely in the back of her throat.

She felt Solomon staring at the back of her head intensely, but he sounded apathetic when he asked, "Why not?"

"I just can't!" She attempted to shove the book away from her, but her hands pushed against the table instead, and Saya heaved herself from the kitchen table. The chair she was sitting on toppled to the floor, and she caught herself and stood, shaking her head furiously.

"This is sick! This is absolutely sick!" Saya paced in tiny circles as Solomon continued to lean against the counter. "How could he—how could he _write _all of this? Amshel did all of these things…How could he _feel_ this way?!"

"My brother was a scientist, Saya," Solomon said coolly. His tone implied that he wasn't defending Amshel's character so much as just stating what he believed to be the obvious. "Diva was never more than a tool to him. Even after he became a chevalier, Amshel never really cared about what she wanted; she was just another experiment to him."

Forgotten words from years ago rang clear in the red queen's ears.

_The metropolitan looming above head, her sister's shattering pieces still crumbling in her hands. Nathan, a chevalier who never seemed here, nor there, placed Diva's babies in her stony hands, just before her eyes turned gray and hollow._

"_All Diva wanted was a family." Nathan had said sadly. "Amshel never understood that, and he never let her out of that test tube…"_

The memory of that, and the realization of everything else brought angry tears overflowing from the brim of her eyes.

"And _you_." Saya turned on him, seething. "How could _you_ feel that way?"

"What way?" Solomon almost laughed his scoff. He was still leaning aloofly with his shoulders shrugged and his eyebrows were raised condescendingly. She couldn't take his blaze` attitude anymore.

"That you can even hear me read these things without cringing—that…that you could have watched what was happening to her and not do anything—It's unbelievable! I never knew it was like this! I never knew it got this bad! Good God, Solomon, you were her chevalier! She may have had her problems, she had her flaws, definitely, but how could you go along with that without caring even a little?!"

Something in Solomon's face snapped, and Saya didn't back down when he stood up straight and took a powerful step toward her.

"Let me make one thing perfectly clear," he said through clenched teeth. "I cared about Diva; I cared about her _so_ much. She meant the world to me!"

Solomon's speech remained intense, but his tone changed from forceful to a sort of helplessness. She had never seen such a side of him before. The color drained from his face, and Saya saw the face of the human she was sure Solomon Goldsmith had once been glaring back at her.

"But she didn't need me." His voice almost broke. "She didn't even want me! No matter what I tried, I could never reach her! Diva knew what she wanted, and I could never give her that, so after a while I stopped trying. I told myself that Amshel was the key to her happiness, since none of us seemed able to help her, no matter what we tried. She actually smiled when she was with him; laughed genuinely only when with him! All of those things he did, I convinced myself that they were for the greater good!"

Saya was still so angry, but she allowed him to finish, and bit her tongue.

"When I started my new life as a chevalier, all I saw was Diva. And it was that duty as a chevalier to accept that in the world I lived in, it was my brother that was the key to her happiness."

"How can you even call him that?!" Saya shot back. "For years he tortured Diva. For years he tortured you!"

"Amshel is the one that saved me!" All the melody was absent from his voice, and his body motioned without any grace or composition. "All Diva knew was Amshel, and she changed him, she sought out James and Nathan, too. Even Karl was given her blood at Diva's agreement. But for me, it was Amshel who chose me for this life. Every time I needed a reason to live, he was the one to give it to me! When Diva rejected me, he was always the one she went to, and he was the only reason I was able to hope that one day she would be happy!"

Saya had no idea if chevalier could ever become out-of-breath, but seeing him standing there, his eyes filled with both pleading and anger, she wondered if perhaps emotional fatigue was the one kind that could affect them. Solomon turned away, and stared off into the moonlight illuminating the living room. She contemplated whether he was too angry at her comments to look at her, or if he was too angry at himself to face her.

But poor Diva…Saya had been so busy attempting to protect humanity, she never even thought about protecting her own sister.

Her only family…

Diva had had her own chevaliers, her own life, path, and dreams. Saya assumed that she was the one pulling the strings, controlling everything. She thought that Diva had had everything she wanted, back then; someone to comfort her when the war didn't turn her way, and to serve her and treat her like the queen she was. Saya had just assumed…that she had had her own Haji, too.

She thought that Diva had wanted a world of chiropterans to destroy the humanity that had forsaken her; that had locked her in a tower and showed her no world but the inside of a rocky cell. Saya never thought that it was all Amshel, manipulating the queen that clung to him, who was all she knew, into creating a different world just because he _could_.

All of those years, wanting a family, wanting someone to love her and never getting any sort of way out—it must have been so unbearable.

_No wonder Diva ended up the way she was_, Saya thought sadly, her heart screaming and ripping apart.

_No wonder she could never understand the pain she put everyone through. Not even her own chevaliers loved her._

"But if you knew all of that," Saya couldn't quell the fire burning her chest, aching her heart and making it pound so hard that it wanted to pop out.

"If you knew what she wanted, even if you couldn't give her a family, why couldn't you just love her?"

There was a moment of silence where Saya felt his heart begin to race, even though his body remained perfectly still.

"We cannot all be Haji, Saya." There was anger in his voice that made Saya shiver, even though it wasn't malicious.

"I tried to love her but she didn't want it. Don't you understand? She knew, always, what I was to her, and eventually I realized that, too, but that doesn't mean it didn't kill me!"

He grabbed his chest as though the rejection still stung, and he lost all inhibition. His words flew randomly and honestly from his dry lips, which made the tortured look on his face look even more haggard.

"Do you have any idea what it feels like to have the person you live for, the person you devoted your entire immortal life to, have no feelings for you whatsoever? Diva tried, I know she did, but she just couldn't--she just didn't know how! The woman I was supposed to exist for, whose very being was supposed to give me purpose, never even gave me a second glance."

"Solomon…" Saya was unsure of what to say to him, but she attempted to reach out, in a mixture of fury, confusion, and pity.

But Solomon whirled angrily.

"Haji never realized how lucky he was," he spat. "Always having you there with him, being able to attend to you, to have you let him understand you! Of course, I'll never understand how he did it."

"Did…what?" Saya hesitated, trying to determine his direction.

"How he was able to fight Diva at your side! I mean, I gave up my entire life for you, and even I had an impossible time going up in arms against her. But he…he was made for her, should have been drawn to her immediately, but he stayed with you all of those years, loving only you that entire time!"

"What's so strange about that?" She countered. Suddenly, her tragic sister was far from her mind, and Solomon's claims left her chest aching for completely different reasons.

"Haji is my chevalier, Solomon." Saya heard her voice bouncing off of the kitchen walls, it sounded cold and determined. "He was always there for me, but because he loved me, not because he had to be! He's living proof that a chevalier _can_ love a queen. _His own queen._"

Solomon took a deep breath, and eyed her with a detached, yet suspicious look.

"Really." He said matter-of-factly. It was not a question.

"Yes," She asserted firmly. "Really."

"Saya?" He asked after a moment. His voice remained largely disinterested, but Solomon crossed his arms over his chest and faced their stand-off.

Her nostrils were flared. "What?"

"Why are you here?"

Despite herself, she took a step backward. "W-what?"

"Why," Solomon reiterated, "are you here?"

"Here?" Saya repeated it back exasperatedly. "I'm here because everyone is trying to kill me!"

"I mean, why are you here with _me_?" He annunciated every word with slow and intense precision, every syllable inching a little closer to her, until he was only a few steps away from her. "Tell me, shouldn't you be with your _own_ chevalier, whose duty as your chevalier and _fiancé_ is to protect you?"

Saya's breath caught in her throat as soon as the word 'fiancé' left his lips. She had never really considered that Solomon would have remained completely aware of her exact relationship with Haji, even though Saya herself sometimes wasn't sure.

Solomon had seen the ring on her finger that first night, and he had seen it perhaps a handful of times after that, and even then it was never plastered onto her finger as it should have been. He knew exactly what that meant.

Haji allowing the Red Shield to send her away, the nonchalant attitude she had adopted about it, her ring (or lack thereof), her cheerful disposition around him, while her fiancé is countries away …

He knew. Of course he knew.

"H-How can you even ask me that?!" Saya shouted, in denial. "Haji had to leave because they needed him on the mission--to protect me! He sent me here so that I could be safe. You know that!"

Stuck somewhere between the fragile teenager he first met in Vietnam, and the cold-hearted soldier he proposed to, Saya swallowed the tears in her eyes and stared at him with strength. She felt her shoulders hunch, and her legs bent ever-so-slightly to get footing on the tile ground in her heels. She snapped at him before he could respond.

"Why are you asking me these things? If you have something you're trying to say, just fucking say it!"

And even though she had known he was going to say it, somehow she never realized exactly what it meant.

"Because you chose him!" He shouted, pointing off into the distance, and a visible shudder ran through him. He cringed angrily, like memories that were too painful to remember ran through him, burning him from the inside.

"You chose someone who doesn't even love you over me!"

And then suddenly Solomon was flying backwards.

Saya stood there for a moment, her fist still extended from half punching, half hurling him into the cabinets to her right. Somewhere between the excruciating truth about Haji and Solomon's audacity for saying it, she'd cracked, shoving all of it away from her.

Solomon hit the wall with his back towards it, the sickening crack of his spine against the granite countertop, his neck snapping forward on impact. Glasses shattered and broke as he fell to the floor, falling like icy raindrops as crystal from the top shelves fell and smashed, creating a blanket of sparkling diamonds that covered almost the entire tile floor.

Solomon lifted his head slowly, stunned amazement making it look as though he had just been snapped awake. His lips parted as the blood in his cuts stopped flowing.

He looked like he was preparing to speak, but Saya was already out the front door.

* * *

A/N: Well there you have it. Amshel was a huge bastard, Solomon knows that Haji doesn't love Saya, and Saya…well…we all know Saya is insane. Props for her for taking a stand!

Again, sorry for the late posting!! The next chapter should be up soon, so PLEASE stay tuned. It's about time we saw what Haji and the Red Shield are up to. And let's not forget about Solomon and Saya's little lover's quarrel…

Please review!!!


	15. Want Me

A/N: Sorry again for the long wait! Thank you all so much for the reviews and for continuing to read my story!

**WARNING**: Just so you know, this was supposed to be in _two_ chapters, but I decided to mush it all together, since sometimes I can't update as fast as I want to. I apologize for the awkward pacing, but I made a note of where the first chapter was _supposed_ to end, in case you want to take a break and come back.

Please enjoy!

--

Chapter 15: Want me

-Moving on-

_You want me too, don't you?_

So what are we saying?  
our Eden's a failure  
a made up story to fit the  
picture perfect world

The one with "I do,"  
and "I love you,"  
and "we are made for each other"  
is forever over now

_--_

Saya ran. For the entire time she had lived in this world, she had run for many reasons; to hunt, to get a medal, to fight, to win. But never, ever, had she run because she had something to run away from.

But she was now. She actually was. Saya refused to sob, but she felt heartbreaking tears streaming down her cheeks as she flew down the two-dozen flights of stairs down to the lobby. She needed to keep her body moving and couldn't wait for that damn elevator to get away from that room. There must have been a thousand stairs, but Saya was rushing past a very concerned looking Ray three minutes after she slammed Solomon into the wall.

She didn't know where she was going—she didn't _care,_ so long as she was gone.

Who the hell did Solomon think he was anyway? After everything she had read, Amshel, Diva, and the tragic secrets of her sisters' life, how on earth could he say something that to her?

_You chose someone who doesn't even love you over me!_

_Yeah, how dare you,_ she thought deprecatingly. A sardonic cough, the closest thing to a laugh she could manage escaped her lips.

_How dare you tell me the truth!_

The heel on one of her pumps jammed into a crack in the sidewalk, and broke off from the sole of her shoe. It sent her flying forward, stumbling onto the deserted pavement. Saya was still only wearing her black cocktail dress, and her naked elbows and knees scraped painfully as she fell. She rose immediately without leaving her cuts enough time to fully heal, but she actually enjoyed the slight pain she felt as she went running into the night.

Feeling pain, that was fine--it was _perfect,_ in fact. It was at least feeling_ something_.

Saya slammed her other foot into a concrete wall she passed in a spry high-kick, successfully taking out the other stiletto heal, and continued rushing through the deserted streets. If she'd been more alert, it would have come to her attention exactly how abandoned this part of the city was. Tall, bare buildings with cracked windows that blocked out the moonlight replaced the expensive apartments and elaborately dressed businesspeople she's darted past moments before, and the only thing she heard besides her panting breath was a car alarm far in the distance.

She started running at normal human speed again, and then slowed to a jog. The air was freezing and the sweat on her forehead disappeared almost immediately when she decelerated.

_What am I doing?_ Saya asked herself. _Why am I here?_

She finally stopped when she reached a cement bench next to a single light pole and a 'bus stop' sign. She leaned against the stiff back, and, using her arms to prop herself up, stared up into the sky. Her eyes could see over the roofs surrounding the alley, and she just barely caught sight of some of the radiant, shining lights of some of the swankier buildings farther off.

_The glistening city sky-scrapers are mere decorations, compared to your beauty…_

_You chose someone who doesn't even love you over me!_

Two unbelievably dissimilar statements, in completely different context, thirty years apart, but both were burning with the same intensity, by the same man, that could only be fueled by unbridled passion and palpable truth.

Solomon was right, of course. Saya had indeed chosen another man over him. A man, who, in all honesty, didn't love her. Haji loved her the way he always had, but the bond they shared wasn't the kind that came with a ring.

It wasn't the kind of love that someone could build a real marriage on.

It wasn't the kind of love that lovers felt.

Not like Solomon felt.

Like Solomon _had felt._

She made sure to put extra emphasis on the past tense. He had made it perfectly clear that he no longer loved her, which she was grateful for. It was certainly better than fantasizing about some sort of happily-ever-after that would never come. She'd already made peace with the relationship between her and her chevalier, and was ready to live with it contently—but why had Solomon's comment hurt her so much?

Maybe it was because she was a little bit ashamed. Maybe it was because she felt like Solomon was a tiny bit justified in his anger. Solomon had no reason to be mad at her personally, but having the woman you gave up your life for getting engaged to man whose love could never rival yours, must be a pretty big slap in the face. And having Solomon see her love life in such a state, made it hurt so much worse.

But no matter how much Solomon's words stung, or how much her pathetic relationship wounded her pride, it didn't come close, _anywhere_ close to how much pain Diva had been through.

_You weren't evil, were you, Diva? You were just broken._

_If I had only known, my sister, then maybe…we both could have lived…_

"Hello there, beautiful."

Saya didn't turn around, but she stiffened at the bawdy voice's intrusions. She cursed herself inwardly. 1,2,3..4 men had snuck up behind her, and she was too deep within herself to notice them until they had gotten this close. The men reeked of alcohol and cheap cigarettes, and she could feel one of the men, the one who'd crudely addressed her, inch himself closer.

"Hey, honey, I'm talkin' to you here!"

He grabbed her arm, and Saya whirled on him, grabbing his throat even though he was at least a foot taller than her present heel-less height. Her finger tightened around his esophagus and Saya heard him cough against her iron grip.

"Stay. Away. From me."

She swung her other arm around and elbowed him hard in the ribs, sending him stumbling backwards into the arms of one of his very surprised cohorts. Immediately after that, Saya launched herself into a sprint in the other direction; she wasn't stupid, she wasn't going to wait for them to snap out of the stupor getting pummeled by a young woman half their size must have left them in.

But before she could get ten feet, even at her speed, she felt two sets of slimy hands pulling her backwards.

"Not so fast pretty lady," Saya thought it sounded like the same man who was speaking before, but she wasn't certain. Either way, there was a very distinct edge in his voice that sent shivers down her spine.

The men holding her laughed as she thrashed, unsuccessfully pulling out of their hold, and their leader coughed and held his ribs, and smiled dangerously at her. His teeth were stained with blood from her hit.

"That was cute," he said in an almost seductive voice. "Really cute. I like it rough sometimes. A struggle." His body slithered close to hers and he rested his hand on her still struggling shoulder, before moving both hands to her chest.

"But that all over now, got it?"

Saya made sure to simply glare at him. He appeared to get aggravated that she didn't panic at his threat, and she was sure the cold fearless look in her eyes made him uneasy in his drunken stupor. He took a step closer to her and grabbed her face with his dirty hand and raised her face to be only an inch or two from his.

"I said you got that, bitch?!"

Despite her fear, she felt a fire burn inside her, and a vicious grin spread across her lips.

_Oh, I got it all right._

_It's over._

With his body now so close, Saya flipped her left leg onto his shoulder, and her right legs spun and slammed his nose upwards and into his skull. She heard the cartilage snap, and he fell backwards, only mildly conscious, into another man and onto a trash can. She ripped herself from the two men's grasp and threw them both forward and crashing into each other.

Saya remembered the fourth man just in time to see him lifting himself off of the ground, and she readied herself to tackle him into the wall. With him incapacitated, she'd have no problem getting away. They had picked the absolute worst time to try and take advantage of her. Pathetic idiots.

She didn't have time to reach him, however, before the red queen saw a tiny glint of silver emerge from his pocket.

A gun was pointed directly between her eyes before she knew it. Saya stopped in her tracks, and she held her breathe.

Even a chiropteran queen couldn't survive a point blank shot to the head.

"That's better."

She heard rustling and out of the corner of her eye she saw two of the men getting up. One held another gun, and the other pulled out a switchblade. The hairs on the back her neck shot up and the felt a hand trail down the front of her dress. Saya heard the very familiar cock of a handgun, and heard them laugh. Their pulses didn't quicken, and Saya knew exactly what they meant.

They were going to kill her. Or worse.

Yes, definitely worse.

_Well, Diva, I guess it's only fair. _

_I'll be seeing you, sister._

But just as the man was about to pull the trigger, Saya's blazing, tearful eyes saw a flash of dark fabric and golden hair charge in front of her.

--

From everything Sonomi and Aoko had learned from books and far-away history lessons, they were expecting Tripoli, Libya to be a lot…sandier.

"It's just like Okinawa, don't you think?" Aoko said softly. She was sitting in one of the rusty chairs decorating the tiny balcony of their cheap apartment three floors upwards from the ground. The dry desert air blew her bangs out of her face as she rested her head in her arms, which were folded on the guardrail. Sonomi looked at her and smiled, and started playing with a tendril of her sister's ebony locks.

"I do," Sonomi answered quietly. She was posed exactly the same as her sister along the balcony rails. The youngest red queen returned her gaze to the streets.

"How do you figure?" Kai walked out into the sun and rubbed both of their heads affectionately. The sun's harsh rays, strong even though it was already late-November, were flattering on him.

"It's pretty here. I wasn't expecting such a big city. And it's warm, just like Okinawa." It was Sonomi who answered. She said it almost forlornly, but without the melodramatic of a sigh or a pout. Both Aoko and Kai stole a glance at her burgundy eyes, which continued to stare off into the bustling streets below.

Sonomi knew she'd been in a daze ever since the _other_ crimson queen had departed Okinawa two months ago. They left shortly after she did, of course; not twenty-four hours after they bade her farewell had they made their own hasty retreat. The Red Shield had planned on leaving slightly later, but Sonomi had urged, almost completely begged, that they leave immediately. When Kai had prodded her, and Aoko consoled her, she relented with her (admittedly) shallow excuse that it was just a 'feeling.' The rest of their group tried to brush it off, but when Haji returned, looking hollow from dropping off Saya, he took Sonomi's side, and confessed that he, too, felt the same foreboding feelings she claimed. Joel made arrangements immediately, and they left the Omoro just as the sun was coming up the next morning.

"It's time for your transfusions, girls," Kai informed them. Aoko rose first, and watched as her twin got up slowly. The Miyagusuku sisters entered the room just in time to see their aunt's chevalier closing the door of one of the many attached rooms.

Sonomi touched Aoko's arm gently.

"I'll be there in a minute," she said. They shared a moment of understanding, and Aoko took Kai's hand and led to the kitchen as Sonomi followed Haji.

She opened the door, and closed it quickly and silently behind her. Haji didn't turn to greet her, but did give her a very polite, but stiff, "can I help you with something, Sonomi?"

"Haji," she said softly. Sonomi tried to sound as casual and calm as possible. "There are some questions I have, and I think you could answer them for me."

Haji had always made her feel slightly on edge whenever Saya wasn't around. It wasn't as though he was unkind, or even cold or antisocial—he was a very big part of the family before her aunt woke up, but he never seemed quite there, unless Saya was, too. He was very nice to her and Aoko; quiet, sure, but unbelievably fun, especially when they were younger. But after her dear aunt had awoken from her long sleep, anytime Sonomi walked past him without his queen by his side, he seemed hollow, almost empty, and especially on edge as soon as he saw her. She'd always felt very in-tune with him, and it made her wonder the exact nature behind chiropterans—queens, chevaliers, and the relationships they shared. It was all so confusing.

Haji had become rigid when she requested his attention, and it annoyed her when she noticed he had to struggle to look pacified and pleasant when he turned around and asked, "What are they?"

"Who exactly is Solomon?" Sonomi asked after taking a breath. "My sister and I never met him. Kai told me some stuff, but he's my Dad, you know? He doesn't want to tell me about some of the…bad, things."

Haji looked at her for a moment, and Sonomi was sure she'd asked something she wasn't supposed to. Still, she wasn't sorry for asking him.

"Solomon Goldsmith was your mother's chevalier," he said coolly. "He fought with Diva, before switching to our side and taking up arms against her."

"But, he fought with you guys because he…loved Saya, didn't he?" Sonomi knew her aunt's chevalier didn't like her questions, but she needed an answer. There were feelings that she couldn't shake off.

"Yes," was all Haji said in response.

"Haji," she struggled to form the words in his cold presence. His obvious disdain for the conversation, and her company in general, unnerved her a great deal.

"I keep feeling these weird things. Every time I close my eyes to sleep, I get these weird visions. I keep seeing Auntie Saya and, I keep seeing him. But it isn't really them, it's just a bunch of feelings, all mixed up. And I don't know what they mean!"

"Is there a reason you're telling me this?" He just glared indifferently at his niece, and she was almost in tears, if only because of her own confused feelings.

"I just, I feel like, she doesn't know why you sent her away. And I have to wonder myself." Sonomi felt her voice weaken, but she tried to make it stronger. "I mean, you just said he was in love with her and you send her to live with him instead of taking her with you!"

Haji just turned towards the window, away from her, and sighed.

"You have no idea what you are talking about," he muttered stoically. "The fact of the matter is that you and the others need my help in the mission that will keep Saya safe.

"And that you are standing here asking these sorts of questions proves to me that you need more help than I thought."

Sonomi stifled a sob and ran out the door, passing Aoko and a concerned Kai as she walked quickly past the kitchen and into her hotel bedroom. She knew Aoko must have heard the whole thing, but Sonomi hoped her father hadn't. The last thing she wanted was Kai getting in the middle of this.

--

It was nearly twilight when Aoko found herself on the roof confronting Haji. She wasn't sure if it was the color of her eyes, or just her disposition, but she didn't share the same anxiety her sister did in Haji's presence.

"It must be hell looking at Sonomi," She told him. His gaze didn't waver off of the sunset, but she saw him stiffen at her statement. Just as she thought. She continued,

"I mean, she looks just like Saya, right?"

Haji looked a tad ashamed of himself as he turned to face her. But Aoko noticed that more than anything, he looked…sad.

Aoko figured out a long time ago the big difference between red and blue. Kai never talked about it, and Sonomi never thought enough about it to ask, but their aunt waking up just proved to her exactly how strong bonds of blood were.

Sonomi was unbelievably connected to Saya. Two red queens—that made sense. And of course it made sense that Sonomi was connected to Haji as well. But, then again, so was Aoko, maybe even more so.

Blue and red…The doctor, Julia Silverstein, had told her once that chevaliers created by one queen could only produce children with the other red. _Opposites attract_, she recalled. Therefore, it was understandable, that her sister felt slightly awkward around Haji, now that she was older and especially when Saya wasn't around. He wasn't _Sonomi's_ chevalier, but without their aunt there, but it must have been difficult to establish a relationship that made it feel like he wasn't.

And it must have been even harder than that, because Haji and Saya were lovers. They defied what everyone assumed the normal chiropteran instinct to choose their opposite, and chose each other.

But Aoko was the blue queen. _The only blue queen_, she thought bittersweetly. So she was connected to Haji in a different way, but all it really meant to her was that she got along very well with him, so it never concerned her very much. But there was someone that she was connected to.

Sonomi would feel Saya, from so far away. And she could have felt Haji, too, if she tried hard enough.

But Aoko could feel Solomon; even though she had never met him, she could still feel him. Her mother had created him, and for better or for worse, Aoko knew she was far more connected to Diva than her beloved sister Sonomi would ever be, just by the eyes alone. And that is how she knew her sister had a completely legitimate reason for confronting Haji in the first place.

It had been almost two months since they started the mission, and things had been going smoothly. She and her sister, along with Haji and Lulu had already infiltrated the military base in Egypt, and they discovered that the production of the new Corpse Corps was still in its early stages; taking out Saya must have been first on the agenda before introducing chiropteran weaponry. It was dangerous, but it was moving quickly, and David and kai agreed that in three months they should have the entire operation shut down. However, Haji wasn't acting like there was any rush at all.

But from the visions Sonomi told her about, and the visions she herself had of Solomon, together made Aoko realize something very important.

"We're never going to see Saya again, are we?"

She asked him nonchalantly, but she purposely made it sound like a question that she already knew the answer to. Haji kept his gaze steady on her, and she wondered if perhaps he had trouble keeping his composure because of her question or because of her resemblance to a former enemy.

"That is up to Saya," Haji answered. There was no malice in his voice, or regret. There was only a deep, sad resolution. "Whatever she wishes to do, I will comply."

"Are you serious?" The normal condescendence that accompanied the question was gone, and she stared at her aunt's fiancé disbelievingly. "God, Haji, she isn't stupid! If you send her off to live with someone who you _know_ is crazy about her, how the hell is she supposed to feel? How do you think Saya will think _you_ feel?!"

"Saya knows I am only here because of the mission." His tone was still pained, and his lack of force only fueled Aoko's frustration with him.

"Maybe you can fool Sonomi with that bullshit, but don't you dare try and pull that one on me."

Haji regarded her for a moment, and Aoko felt a sort of grudging respect and willingness fill his eyes. He knew that she was well aware of what was going on—what was _really_ going on, and must have realized that there was no point in trying to pull the lid over her eyes. Haji turned towards the horizon once again.

"I am Saya's chevalier," he began quietly. "And we have spent most of our existence together. Saya is all that I have, as a man, and as a chevalier.

"Perhaps it is hard for you are your sister to understand, since you are still very young and will never create chevaliers, but the world in which we live in is not particularly kind to us, and it has become obvious that the nature of humans is quite different from the nature of chiropterans."

Aoko had never heard him say so much in one sitting, and he continued calmly.

"Solomon Goldsmith is a man similar to Saya in a very strong way. He has been able to live his life with his natural instincts completely intact, and Saya had to do the same thing while fighting your mother years ago. Solomon lives by his chiropteran heart, and by contrast, I live by my human one." He paused one last time before finishing.

"Saya lives somewhere between the two. I thought it only fair to give her the chance to choose which one she wants to live with forever."

"You mean, to choose between you, and Solomon? Her human heart's choice, versus her chiropteran one's?"

Haji nodded.

"But, I still don't understand," Aoko pushed. "You did all this; instead of having her fight with us, you sent her away…"

"So that Saya could, at the very least, see the life she could have lived," he finished. "And could still live, if she wishes to."

"I think that's…awful," Aoko said after a beat. Her heart went out to her aunt. "I think that is truly horrible, Haji."

Saya's chevalier turned and gave her a questioning look. There wasn't any anger on his face, and Aoko knew then that he had been expecting a different sort of reaction from her. She found the entire situation absolutely sickening.

"Love isn't about the other person all the time, you know," Aoko shot out. She felt her voice rising. "If you never say what you want, then the other person won't think you need them at all! This shouldn't just be about what Saya wants!"

Haji said nothing in response, and didn't bother denying anything. His gaze had returned to the sky, again, though there was no longer any trace that the sun had ever been there, save for the slashes of purple and orange scarring the dark blue heavens.

"You know what? I hope that Solomon does still love her," She announced powerfully. His silence spoke volumes—it was all she needed.

"I hope he does love her, and that all the feelings I'm seeing are true. And I hope he goes after her, and doesn't give up, and that she ends up choosing her chiropteran heart, if that's really what it is, because all the turmoil Sonomi says Saya's feeling right now—you aren't worth it. You don't deserve her, if you give up and don't even try."

The blue queen knew her words were harsh, and Sonomi knew she would regret being so blunt later. Still, she felt justified that she wasn't saying anything false.

"Even if Saya stays and wishes to be with him, I will never want her any less." Haji was solemn, and Aoko turned to leave.

"You should never choose the one who wants you. You should want the one who chooses you. Wanting someone doesn't mean shit unless you do something about it." She looked back at him one last time.

"And you should've stayed. You chose wrong, Haji."

~~~~~***(Need me—Part 2)***~~~~~

It took Solomon a few moments to realize what had happened. All he remembered seeing was a beautiful face, tear-streaked but lovely, contorted into snarl, with two glowing red eyes desperately searching his face for something untrue. His heard his own voice echoing in his eyes.

_You chose someone who doesn't even love you over me!_

_Oh, God,_ he thought ruefully. _Did I really say those words to her?_

_Was I the cause of your tears, Saya?_

His eyes darted around the room at that last thought.

_Saya?_

No, of course she wasn't here anymore. He had seen her leave, sprinting out, with his own eyes. His back throbbed and he snapped his neck beck into place. Her blow had disoriented him, but he shot up as soon as he regained enough sense to follow her trail clearly, not bothering to clean up the blanket of broken glass covering the kitchen.

Saya had taken the stairs, and he followed them down, clinging to her scent as he ran desperately after her. A powerful wave of regret flowed over him—he must have hurt her enough to completely abolish her common sense (if she wanted to get so far away, why not just jump to the next building from the balcony?), and his chest ached when he pictured her heartbroken face.

_I'm sorry; I'm so sorry, _Solomon repeated in his head. He wasn't sure how fast he was running as he rushed past Ray, who's expression implied that 'Nicole' had just flown by, and by the look on his face, she must have been in a considerably more distressed state then Solomon knew himself to be in.

Saya couldn't have been more than a few minutes ahead of him. He ran past only a few people at this late hour, and he could still sense her. But Solomon couldn't pinpoint her exact location, and he started to panic.

_Saya, where _are_ you?_

He didn't even know why he was running after her—he just _needed_ to. He couldn't put it into words, but he needed to be with her. His body urged him forward and his heart screamed at his brain for being so careless for shouting at her like that.

It wasn't like she really needed him. A completely grown chiropteran queen, even in this dodgy neighborhood, would be more than capable of handling herself. And Saya had made it clear that she certainly didn't want him, especially after the scene he'd made.

_I'm so sorry. Saying those things to you was unforgivable._

_I was just so angry, knowing that you didn't want me._

_I just love you so much…_

And the fact that Haji would throw someone like her away absolutely killed him. It infuriated him, and he had almost lost control and let his body convert into its chiropteran form, when he saw the truth in her eyes.

Solomon had shouted at her, accusing her of forsaking him for a man who didn't love her. They were words of anger, mostly--an accurate portrayal of his true feelings, but far too cruel to say without stimulation. And he had expected her to deny it immediately, and roar back proudly to him, and tell him that Haji was amazing and wonderful, and that he was the key to the happiness that Solomon could never unlock for her.

But instead Saya had struck him, painfully. It was not the dainty slap of a confused heart like the one she'd laid upon his face thirty years ago—one that she seemed to do rather by instinct than actual disdain. No, this was an anger-fueled punch, meant to push him and everything he said away from her.

But before Saya had thrown him back, Solomon had seen her beautiful face briefly crumple in pain, before whirling into rage. Regret pooled in his stomach when he pictured her lovely lips trembling and her crimson eyes dull to burgundy for a brief moment, and that's when he realized the words that he hollered out didn't hurt her because it was he who said them.

It was because they were true.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he picked up a strangely familiar scent. Solomon looked down and saw faint blood marks on the pavement of the sidewalk, only visible to his enhanced eyes in the late moonlight. He saw a stiletto heal caught in a crack, and a shiver went down his spine.

Running down a deserted street in heels? That was just asking for trouble. And Saya had kept running while bleeding. Solomon raked his hands through his hair, and drew in a shaky, frustrated breath.

His queen was devastatingly beautiful, but she could be so impulsive and downright stupid when she was riled up.

He remembered that he had been like that, once. Living by your feelings, instead of controlled logic. If he had been living that way now, instead of berating her earlier, he would have been holding her, caressing her and reassuring her that, if nothing else, he would always, always love her.

Solomon stood there for another moment. He closed his eyes and tried to intuit her position. It was easy enough, once he calmed down.

He found her quickly, and for a moment he sighed in relief. Saya wasn't running anymore, and he'd catch up with her soon and bring her back home. Solomon set off running after her again.

But something seemed off. Solomon felt Saya's heart racing, and he ran faster. He sensed other bodies around her; they were men (_of course they are_, he thought in disgust), and he knew that the tension in the air wasn't from her anger—it was something he'd never felt before.

It was her fear.

_No._

Within seconds he was upon them, and one of his fists collided with a man's jaw, while he used his other hand to rip a handgun out of his grimy hands. Solomon never even thought of transforming his arm into the silvery blade he used to fight with; he enjoyed the satisfying crack of the man's jawbone breaking under his bare fist. The man fell, unconscious, and he rushed at another of the rotten men who'd jumped her.

He heard Saya shriek and turned to see her jump back. She was trying to fight the last one off, and she dodged a knife aiming for her throat. In an instant the blade sliced directly through Solomon's hand as he leapt out in front of her. He thought he heard Saya cry out in surprise, but Solomon slammed the man into the concrete wall behind him, and he bellowed as his arm snapped from the impact.

The men ran off, the two with minor injuries helping the two who could barely walk. One of them had been out cold. Solomon glanced at Saya's bruised ankles and knuckles, and figured she must have taken him out herself. He was positive that she would have been perfectly capable of finishing them off if they hadn't pulled out weapons.

_That's my girl_, he thought with a tiny smile.

Solomon turned towards her and all of the joy of rescuing her drained from his body. She was an absolute mess; the scrapes on her body hadn't completely healed yet, and her hair was plastered to her face and neck with sweat. Her dress was torn down the middle, and that combined with the already plunging neckline exposed her bare breast, and he looked away awkwardly when she followed his brief glance and wrapped her dress around her, crossing her arms. There was no shame or embarrassment on her face, and Solomon respected that very much.

"Saya," he began, though he wasn't sure whether to apologize to her or scold her for running. His first concern, of course, was her safety. "Are you alright?"

Saya merely glared at her chevalier for a moment before turning her head away, sickened. It stabbed his confidence that she wouldn't look at him, but he knew he deserved it. Still, Solomon reached out for her, but she slapped his hand away.

"Don't you dare touch me!" Saya spat, pushing past him. Solomon grabbed her arm but she refused to return to him.

"I'm sorry," he pleaded. Saya's eyes didn't look any more at ease, but at least she stopped walking away. She didn't snap back at him or slap him away, and he used the opportunity to explain.

"Those things that I said to you, those things that you read, that awful diary, all of it. I'm sorry. You'll never know how much. But I refuse to lie to you; everything that was written was true—Amshel's actions, as well as my own, were accurately portrayed. Those horrible tragedies…I was part of it all. A big part."

Solomon was slightly stunned when Saya relaxed and allowed him to pull her closer. She let him drape his jacket over her shoulders, and when he had her body facing his, Solomon leaned down and pressed his cheek against hers.

"I understand if you hate me," he whispered, the closeness of her body a direct contrast to the lack of intimacy of their relationship. "I deserve it, after everything that has happened."

There was a pause before he heard a very soft, "I don't hate you, Solomon," escape from the tiny woman before him.

"I don't think I could ever hate you," she continued. Saya pushed herself away from his chest slowly and Solomon regretfully released her. "But reading those terrible things about her life made me think about how much she must have suffered. After all of those years she and I spent talking in the zoo, and I go around and try and kill her!

"I want my old life back. I'm so tired of things changing on me! I thought family was the key to happiness, but I went and killed the only family I had! I'll never see Diva again. Ever!"

Saya shoved her body away from him and grabbed her head. With her eyes clenched, the heart of the woman he loved seemed to burst. She screamed up into the sky,

"I just want my sister back!!"

She pounded her fist into the pavement and wailed. Solomon could only watch as his queen broke in front of him. Saya lashed out, cracking the cement bench as she rammed her fist through it, crying out the entire time. Her eyes were sparkling like rubies against the grey backdrop of the deserted street, and sympathy and realization flowed into his mind.

Saya wasn't feral, or going crazy, she was sad. Diva, her other half, was gone forever, as were other things from her past that she could never recapture. She was just a confused young woman, the same one as in Vietnam, and in New York, and he saw all that she was, and he didn't want her to have to be alone anymore.

The face of the woman he would always love, such a pretty face, should never be stained with tears.

--

Solomon walked over to her, and Saya felt him wrap his arms around her. She tried to wriggle out of his hold and yelled at him to let her go, but he just held her tighter. Saya was annoyed, at first, but relented after enough of his breath had reached her ear and calmed her down.

"Saya, we can't change the past," Solomon said softly. He pulled away and button up his suit jacket on her tiny frame, and for once didn't try and change the tone of the conversation. Saya finally met his gaze.

"I can't watch you live like this anymore. The things that happened were truly a catastrophe, but the past is something that we can never change, but we can learn from them. Sometimes things are out of our control, and we cannot blame ourselves for things all of the time. You especially, Saya; you can't hate yourself—it would kill me if you did."

Solomon seemed to manage a small smile as he placed both hands on her head and leaned towards her face. Saya felt his eyelashes graze her cheek and she prayed that he didn't feel her pulse quicken. Familiar, touching words met her ear.

"Whatever will be, will be."

_Nankurunaisa…_

"You're right," Saya said firmly, resisting the urge to melt into his arms. "We can't change the past, no matter how much we want to."

"Diva would have wanted you to be happy," he responded. "My time as her chevalier makes me absolutely certain of that. She would be so happy, knowing that you've lived on."

Solomon paused, but resumed speaking after he clutched her hand under the over sized sleeve of his coat. The simple intimacy of the gesture warmed her heart.

"I know that I was happy to learn that you lived. So happy."

Saya felt the blonde man's eyes on her, and she stared up at the sky. It was almost dawn, and soon the sun would rise, only to set again. No matter what happened down on Earth, the world kept going, kept spinning. Time waits for no man, and she was grateful to know that Solomon mourned Diva's death as much as she did, but had found a way to kept going.

There were so many things she wanted to ask Solomon. She wanted to know about what Diva did to stay happy, and she yearned to hear the stories he had to tell. The tidbits Saya had picked up from the journal entries left her wondering about his mortal life before his immortal one began, and she was looking forward to meeting the man he was.

There was something about him that was so amazing. Saya had just completely broken down in front of him, and there wasn't an ounce of fear, or judgment, in his entire body. Her body always aching to see him, and now her mind was, too. She couldn't explain it.

They walked hand in hand back to his apartment, and she enjoyed the brisk walk of the early morning. Solomon mentioned being tempted to walk back into the lobby, only to see the looks on the faces of the people inside. They both looked disheveled, and Saya knew she looked especially unkempt. The poor dress was ruined, along with the shoes. He had a very strange sense of humor, and they decided to go through the underground garage to get to the elevator, just in case anyone was paying particular detail to the couple that left the apartment, and mysteriously reappeared hours later without using an elevator _or_ any doors.

As soon as Solomon opened the door Saya threw the shoes off, though they were really nothing more than tattered soles now. She heard the man behind her tsk and she knew he was shaking his head.

"Versace," he said sadly. "Those poor shoes were never meant for running, I don't think."

"And yet, I made them work," Saya replied briskly with a sweet smile. She walked towards the kitchen, intending to change into something less…exposed, before grabbing a glass and heading off to bed.

"Don't take it out on clothes just because you were on the track team in high school," Solomon shot back, laughing a little. "_Some_one around here works very hard to make sure you have style."

Before Saya could fire back a retort, however, her naked foot collided with crystal points on the kitchen floor, slicing painful gashes into her foot. Her clumsy footing and surprise made her lose her balance, and she toppled onto the broken glass covering the floor.

"Saya!"

She really should have known that Solomon would be there to catch her, even though she wished he hadn't this time. His arms broke her fall, and she saw him kneeling down at her side. The blood on his knees soaked through the pant legs on where he'd slid through the broken glass, and she felt his arms under her quiver slightly from what she was sure was pain from a million crystal shards imbedding themselves into his skin.

"You have a real knack for danger, don't you?" Solomon laughed, but it was slightly strained as he lifted her up out of the glass. She didn't answer, only tried not to pay attention to the severe crunching his leather shoes made under the glass. There was so much of it…and she knew she was to blame.

"Now, now, don't go apologizing ," he cut her off as soon as she opened her mouth and placed an undamaged finger over her lips. He had sat her on top of the counter by the sink, and when he stood in front of her, Saya was just a little taller than eye-level with him.

"I completely deserved it," Solomon continued, inspecting her arms and swiftly plucking out any shards that had made their way onto her. "And good shot on your part, too. Quite an arm you've got there."

Saya laughed, but winced when he found a particularly large piece in the crook of her elbow. She hadn't felt it when she fell, but she attributed it to Solomon being so close that she briefly forgot the glassy carpet around them.

"This will hurt a bit, sweetheart, so just relax." Solomon rubbed her cheek and she knew she was blushing. He held her elbow in his right hand and used his other to seize the shard swiftly out of her arm. Saya flinched and instinctively pulled her arm away, but he still held it firmly, restricting the blood flow from the vein with one hand, and holding hers' in the other.

But Saya could still feel the blood pouring from the cut, and when she opened her eyes, her world fell apart.

"S-Solomon…" Was all she managed to get out.

"Oh, don't tell me you're afraid of blood," he teased. He was so unbelievably oblivious, and Saya shouted at him.

"No, Solomon! No! Get away from me! Your arm!"

She tore her hand away from his just in time for them both to see the blood from her gash trail into the still open wounds he himself had gotten from catching her. Solomon had had his sleeves rolled up, and Saya watched in horror as her crimson blood dance happily into the wounds covering his pale skin.

Solomon's eyes widened in surprise, though he didn't move or speak. Saya felt her whole body tremble.

"No, no, no, please…" she pleaded. "No, no, no…"

_Diva first, Then Haji? And now you, too?_

_No, Solomon, no…_

_I need you…I want you with me!_

_I don't know why, but I want you!_

But before she was reduced to hysterics, Saya remembered when she'd seen the same thing happen. It wasn't Diva she recalled, but Karl, decades back in Vietnam when she, in a blood-induced trance, sliced into his arm. Karl had been able to save his life by chopping off the parts contaminated with her blood.

Solomon…

Saya leapt from the counter and grabbed a butcher knife from one of the kitchen drawers. She had used it once to cut up steak for okonomiyaki, but now she gripped it like a sword. The red queen wasn't sure why Solomon wasn't doing anything but stand there and watching his arm with morbid fascination, but she accredited it to the shock he must be in.

To feel your blood crystallizing slowly—your life slipping away, it must be a truly appalling feeling.

She pinned his against the wall roughly and started to bring the knife down. Saya mentally apologized to Solomon for the pain it would cause, but he wrapped his unharmed arm around her shoulders and curled her into him. The knife toppled to the floor.

"Saya, stop," he said softly when she screamed at him to let her go. "Look."

Saya watched as his arm amazingly remained unchanged. His cuts had healed as though nothing had happened, and she saw the veins on Solomon's wrist pulsate normally and rhythmically. She touched his arm and traced her fingers along the perfect soft skin, astonished.

"Solomon, you're…not crystallizing," Saya choked out. Her body sunk to the floor, and his fell with her. He sat there leaning against the wall, flexing his arm, clenching and unclenching his fingers, and gripped her shoulders tightly.

"You're blood, it isn't working." Solomon sounded confused, but recognized his good fortune. "It didn't do anything…" he trailed off.

Did her blood really do nothing? It had obviously made it into his wounds. Plenty of blood had made its way in—his arm should be nothing but rubble by now. The only thing known to take away the potency of a queens' blood was pregnancy, and as much as the subject made her heart pound, Saya knew for certain that she was not pregnant. Could there be another reason for her blood to lose its power?

As happy as she was for Solomon's health, she had to make absolutely sure that her blood couldn't hurt him.

Saya picked up the knife lying beside her on the floor, and held the blade tightly in her hand until it sliced her palm successfully. Solomon followed her train of thought and released her shoulder. He took the knife when he saw the blade covered in her crimson blood, and moved to slice his own hand with the stained steel.

"No," Saya corrected sternly, pushing his hand down. "Drink it."

She placed her cupped hand directly in front of his lips. Solomon immediately shied away from it, and shook his head. He looked very young doing that, and Saya commented to herself that she'd never seen him look genuinely scared before.

"I have to make sure!" she pressed. Solomon looked at her face and she knew he understood her determination. He nodded. It wasn't so much that she needed to make sure he was okay—they both needed to see if her blood had really lost its strength.

Solomon's raised eyebrows made his face look pained when he held her hand in his and brought it to his mouth. Saya watched his throat rise and fall as he swallowed, and his glimmering eyes opened when she pulled her hand away. They waited a few moments, and Saya smiled widely when he didn't react.

Somewhere, somehow, something had changed, and her blood no longer held the power of the queen. Saya considering briefly that perhaps she should be terrified of the change, but she too overcome with joy at seeing Solomon completely unharmed next to her. But Solomon did not seem as happy as she did. In fact, he looked like he was in a trance.

"Solomon?"

He didn't meet her gaze, and his eyes remained fixated on her hand. He still held it, and Saya watched, mystified, as he once again raised it his lips.

"…Solomon?"

A chill went down Saya's spine as she felt Solomon's tongue trace over her palm where the cut had been. She wanted to pull her hand away, but he drew her closer. His fangs extended and Saya felt them nibble on her hand. Wriggling out of his hold was pointless, and part of her didn't want to move away from him.

Solomon trailed his teeth down her arm in a mix of tiny bites and what felt like soft kisses, and ignored her meek objections. Saya gave in to the feeling of his warm body so close to her, and stopped struggling when she felt Solomon's breath reach her neck.

She expected him to wander up to her lips, but instead, she felt a sharp pain on the side of her neck.

Saya was so shocked at the feeling she didn't immediately throw him off. In fact, there was a sort of euphoria in the feeling, and she realized why her chevalier Haji, and Solomon, too, for that matter, never seemed to mind it. But she soon became aware of the lightheadedness she was experiencing, and called out to him when he showed no signs of stopping.

"Let go," she said weakly. Solomon seemed too far gone to even register what he was doing, and the pain was becoming unbearable.

"Solomon, you need to stop. You're hurting me!"

As much as she didn't want to harm him, she lifted her leg and kicked his backwards, and he bumped into the wall across from her. As Saya sat there, catching her breath and holding her neck, she watched Solomon's face slowly regain awareness of the situation. She heard Solomon's breath catch in his throat when his gaze reached her bloodied neck.

"Are you okay?" Saya asked him, but he looked at her as though she was crazy.

"You're asking me?" Solomon's voice trembled, and Saya saw that his whole body was shaking. He touched his mouth with his fingers and looked horrified when he saw her blood on them. He shook his head, his blonde waves sending bright reflections from the morning sun, and covered his head in his hands.

Saya stood up and walked over cautiously to him. "Solomon?"

"What did I do?" He asked. His voice seemed to drip with self-deprecation and hatred. "How could I do that to you?"

"It's okay," she tried to reassure him as she knelt down in front of him. "I'm fine, see? You didn't do anything."

"I could have killed you!"

Saya wasn't sure why she was always so quick to forgive him, but he made it so easy. After all, she understood the power of bloodlust better than anyone. She tried to lift his face up to meet hers, but they were closed, and like a huffy child, refused to open up to her until she forced him.

When he opened his eyes, the normally serene aquamarine was replaced by dazzling red, and he turned away when she felt her eyes widen in surprise. Those eyes that should terrify her were so…beautiful. Saya noticed on further inspection that his eyes seemed watery, almost like they were filled with…tears.

_Oh my God_, Saya thought_. He looks like he's going to cry…_

And right then and there she realized the meaning of the words he greeted her with at zoo all those years ago.

_You are our mother, as well as our lover._

Saya laced her fingers in both of his hands and pulled him up, and wrapped her arms around his torso. Solomon stiffened at her touch, but when she reached up on her toes and hugged his shoulders, he buried his face in her hair.

She had to wonder why he reacted so harshly towards himself even though she'd made it perfectly clear she had forgiven him, but it kind of made sense that he would. Saya remembered reading in the diary about him; how he had had a mental breakdown and defected from the military, and how Solomon had been plagued by anxiety attacks when he started his life as a chevalier, until Amshel had broken him enough to get rid of them.

Solomon had molded himself into the perfect mask of self-controlled perfection. He never broke, never lost control, but just now, he had. He had given into his chiropteran instincts and went after blood—something Saya was sure he hadn't done since he switched from Diva's side to hers', and probably long before that. The one thing Solomon prided himself on was his composure, and he had just lost it, in front of the queen he has sworn to protect.

But Saya completely understood how it felt to lose it in front of someone you cared about. However, that didn't stop Solomon's heart from pounding rapidly into her ear.

"It's okay," She repeated, trying to soothe him. "It's okay, just calm down."

Saya freed him from her hold and he leaned over the counter, and shook his head as though he was trying to shake something off. She watched him inhale and exhale slowly, but his body still shuddered. He leaned his head back and ran his hands through his hair, closing his eyes (which had returned to glittering blue-green), but slammed his fists down on the countertop and muttered something about being pathetic.

Saya wanted to comfort him, but he walked over to the counter above the broken glass, opened it, and grabbed a few bottles of what looked like prescription medication. He walked back over to her and smiled apologetically before opening up one of the bottles and swallowing a handful of the pills that were inside.

"What are those?" Saya asked slowly.

"Albert Parson has a very serious anxiety problem," Solomon replied with a tiny smile, and Saya recognized the alias as the one he used to get them past the security guards at the airport when she first arrived. "He and a few other of my pseudonyms have some…useful prescriptions."

Instead of immediately rejecting his…interesting approach, Saya found herself a little fascinated. "Are didn't know _that_ sort of thing worked. On us, I mean."

"It can if you take enough of it," he answered back, turning towards her as he popped a few more into his mouth. "Not exactly the same way they conventionally do, but it still helps."

Saya had to try very hard to think of something to say, so she took a page from Solomon's book and tried to make a joke. She walked over to the counter and looked at a few of the bottles.

"Phenobarbital, Hydroxyzine, Alprazolam," she read, laughing a little. "Diazepam. Geez, Solomon—if you take too many of these, it'll just knock you out.

Solomon did laugh at that, heartily. He looked around the room like he was trying to remember something and sighed, almost fondly. Almost.

"I used to do that, actually," he mused. "Chevaliers can't sleep, you know? But while our physical bodies don't need to rest, sometimes our mental state can use a, well, little retreat. At first it was to adjust to my new life, but then it became an asylum when I got bored."

"You found a way to sleep?" Saya couldn't help but wonder if perhaps Dr. Julia and Haji had ever considering using outside remedies to promote sleep. It was a pretty clever idea, if not a bit questionable. Anyhow, it was Saya that rejected her 'natural' chiropteran instincts and took her blood from a glass, instead of a host, so we wasn't one to comment.

And looking at Solomon before her, she couldn't exactly say she didn't condone that kind of behavior. Living an eternal life without sleep, especially when you grow up your entire life human, sleep included. And Solomon—he looked a wreck. Of course to any normal human, he would look wonderful, his skin and eyes and hair glimmering in their sheer flawlessness. But to her, a queen who for some reason couldn't stop paying her utmost attention to him, he looked worn out, shaken, and cracked.

He looked tired.

"Maybe you should sleep," Saya suggested.

Solomon regarded her for a moment, before giving her a tiny, sad smile. "Do I really look that bad?"

"You look like you haven't gotten a good night's sleep in over a hundred years." She laughed a little, and Solomon scoffed a chuckle. He sighed, and looked over to her. She tried to look stern and determined, but Saya knew she only mustered concern. She wasn't sure if it was a variant of a maternal instinct, or something else that made her care so much for his wellbeing, but she didn't really give it a second thought. All that really concerned her now was her chevalier's racing heart, and still trembling hands.

"Give yourself a break," She continued. "I don't think I've ever seen you relaxed. Not really."

"You're sent to live with me for your protection, and you end up caring for _my_ welfare?" Solomon picked up two of the bottles and stared at them. "The irony isn't lost on me."

"I just care about you," Saya admitted to Solomon's obvious shock. She pushed the bottles in his hand closer to his chest and walked over to the hallway, and smiled.

"And I think you and I both know that that's not why I was sent away."

"Saya…"

She laughed, "I won't take no for an answer. I hate to encourage drug abuse, but take your pills and go to sleep. I'm going to change."

Perhaps he objected, but Saya already jumped over the glass and onto the actual carpet of the hallway. She didn't hurry getting out of her clothes, or what was left of them anyway. After tossing on simple jeans and a t-shirt, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her make-up was smeared, her face ashen, and her hair was tangled and greasy-looking. Saya wished everything was as easy to wash off as mascara and sweat, and after her face was clean she pulled what she could of her hair back in a ponytail.

Solomon wasn't in the kitchen, and the living room was empty. She made her way into his bedroom, where she found him sitting on the side of the bed. He donned a different set of clothes as well, and he seemed to opt for something simple as well; clean black pants replaced the torn and tattered one's he had on before, and his new white shirt wasn't completely buttoned.

Looking at the way he was sitting, Saya wondered if his arms even had the strength to finish the job. Solomon was slumped slightly, as if the invisible strings holding him up had been cut. She walked over to him, and he turned to her when she stood in front of him.

"Getting sleepy?" Saya asked him gently.

"If you can call it that," Solomon replied, taking a deep breath. "It's been ages since I purposely knocked myself out. It feels very…strange, yet oddly comforting. I can't quite explain it."

Saya imagined the feeling of retrieving long lost sleep was very similar to when she felt herself slipping into her hibernation period. It was scaring, unnerving, but natural, almost soothing. She told him as much.

"But my hibernation periods are all over," Saya continued, pressing his torso back until he laid down into the bed. It wasn't until later that she realized the gesture could have been easily misconstrued as a sexual one.

"You're not going to sleep anymore?" Solomon's question was hazy-sounding, and he looked like he was having trouble keeping his eyes open. Still, there was a sense of urgency in his slurred inquiry.

"Not for thirty years at a time, no," She replied. Saya sat down next to him, and smiled. Perhaps it was that he was letting himself be so completely vulnerable around her that melted her heart—even Haji had never done that, save for once centuries ago as a child. "Dr. Julia says they're over."

Solomon's face was shocked before it was overcome with joy, and the sleepiness seemed to fade when he replied, "That's fantastic, Saya. You must be ecstatic." He raised his head but then immediately fell back onto the pillow, his face drained of color.

"Sorry," he murmured apologetically.

"Don't be," she laughed, pushing his bangs away from his face. Just like with Solomon, the irony of their role-reversal wasn't lost on her. But she actually enjoyed it; there was a closeness in that which she had never shared with anyone else. And it was then that she realized something very important about their relationship.

"Thank you," he sighed, not from emotion, but exhaustion.

Saya stood up and walked over to the window, opening it up just enough to let in a sliver the early morning sun. It was peculiar, saying goodnight in the morning, but it couldn't be helped.

"Saya," Solomon said quietly from the bed. "What I said earlier, about Haji, it wasn't—"

"Yes it was," Saya interrupted with a smile. It wasn't a happy one, but she found that sometimes if she didn't smile, she would cry.

"It was the truth, what you said," she continued honestly. "About how he feels. That was the truth."

Solomon looked as though he wanted to say something, but Saya found her body walking over to his reclined form, and he appeared either too tired or too shocked to respond when she sat down put her cheek on his forehead, nestling her face in his hair for a few seconds.

"Thank you, Solomon," Saya said, standing.

She had her back to him, but she could imagine what his face looked like, only seconds away from passing out, asking, "For what?"

"For wanting me."

Saya had responded without realizing it. When she realized what she'd admitted, she didn't dare turn around. But after a few moments when he said nothing, the red queen turned back, only to find Solomon's eyes closed, hands folded neatly over his chest, his body completely cataleptic, finally overcome by sleep.

Finally giving into her body's insistence to be close to him, Saya walked over to the other side of the bed, and crawled over it until she was sitting next to him. She played with his wavy hair, unbelievably soft to her calloused fingertips, until she, too, drifted off to sleep beside him.

* * *

A/N: ooOOOooo what do we have here? Haji admits to the twins his real intentions? How unbelievable! And Saya finally realizes that she has feelings for Solomon? It's about time!

Too bad she still thinks that Solomon doesn't love her back…

Oh, and I take full responsibility for adding any controversial character choices. I wanted to give them something that they sometimes left out in the anime. DEPTH.

But please keep reading to find out how their relationship progresses, and stay tuned to see what happens in the next chapter!


	16. Let Me Be The One

A/N: I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!!! I haven't updated in over a month! And even after all the great reviews you gave me! I had a lot of painful stuff to deal with, and I appreciate your patience with me. Thank you very much for continuing to read my story. I am touched.

Special note to *StarlightSkies*--Allow me to explain the situation in the last chapter regarding Haji and the twins. Sonomi, Aoko, and Saya are all chiropteran queens, so they share a special, pseudo-telepathic bond, so they can tell that Saya is beginning to fall in love with Solomon (ooOOOoo). When Haji is confronted with that, he confesses that (despite what Saya has come to believe FAR away in New York), he is still madly in love with her, but feels guilty and wants to let her see the life she could have with Solomon. In the end, Aoko reveals that because Haji did this, Saya feels unloved and unwanted, and since Solomon still loves her, Saya will choose him.

And to *Aldedron*--oh ho ho ho! I wrote this special government section in for you. It was, in fact, Abram Michaels' _wife_ that Saya met at the Halloween party. (Abram Michaels one of the guys trying to kill Saya BTW, just in case anyone forgot.)

Please enjoy!!

Chapter 16: Let me be the one

_--The New World--_

_When darkness is upon your door _

_and you feel like you can't take anymore_

_Let me be the one you call  
If you jump I'll break your fall  
Lift you up and fly away with you into the night  
If you need to fall apart  
I can mend a broken heart  
If you need to crash then crash and burn  
You're not alone_

--

The air was thick and heavy and bitterly cold, and thunder roared ominously above them. Solomon could sense the rain that was waiting eagerly to fall, and he tightened his grip on Saya's hand as they leapt from rooftop to rooftop. He could feel her heart racing through the soft skin of her hand, and they stopped on the top of the next building.

"It's just a little farther, angel," he said, giving her a moment to catch her breath. She kept looking behind them, as if they'd left a trail anyone would have been able to follow. But he couldn't consider her mindset right now—he needed to get her away, quickly, and the ominous booms of thunder fueled his worry.

"Lucky break we left the Rolls Royce on that road, eh?" He forced a laugh, trying to comfort both her and himself with the irony. "We would never have been able to grab one of the cars out of the garage in time."

He took her hand and tried to urge her forward, but she didn't budge. His heart skipped a beat when he tugged and she only looked him straight in the eye.

"I have to go back." Saya announced.

"No!" Solomon heard himself yell, pulling her towards him.

"I forgot something! Let me go!"

"No!" he shouted. "Why would you--Whatever it was, I'll buy you a new one! I have to get you out of here!"

"I'm sorry!" Saya cried, just as he felt her dainty hand slam his cheek. Her knuckles had just enough force to make him stagger backwards. He caught her tiny suitcase as she prepared to jump back to the last building.

"Go get the car! I'll meet you there!"

"Saya! No!" By the time he made it to the guardrail, she had disappeared. The rain began pouring all around him, erasing her scent. "Saya! Come back!"

Solomon followed her orders, and raced against time to get to the car.

_Saya, my angel, my love…_

_They will kill you…_

--

It was rare that Abram actually felt uneasy in the presence of another human being. Even as a young adult, slowly creeping up the corporate, and later military, ladder, he had always been quite as ease with his bosses. Now, however, he had to wipe his hands on his slacks to control the sweating of his palms.

Jefferson McCoy, his close friend, and his feared superior, sat across from him in the older man's spacious office. His face, like always, showed no visible emotion.

It had been almost an entire month since Jefferson ordered the team to investigate the chiropterans research, and track down the young woman known as 'Saya.' Since then, they had found to physical evidence whatsoever, and Abram knew that his chief was not pleased.

"the picture that we retrieved from the suitcase couldn't give a clear facial structure to search for," Abram revealed, trying to at least provoke some sort of response from McCoy. "And the pictures that we were able to locate that were taken of her in Okinawa 30 years ago were too old to scan through the module."

"Were you able to translate those documents I handed you last week?" Jefferson asked, ignoring Abram's statement. He was probably already aware that the picture would be of no use to them, unless the woman walked up to them close enough for them to identify her in person.

"I gave them to Glenn Williams, our CIA contact from the linguistics division," he said. "He seems to think that the Red Shield is not responsible for the attacks on the chiropteran base in Egypt. In fact, he believes it to be a different group entirely."

Jefferson continued to look over the papers, and inconspicuously popped a few red pills into his mouth.

"Did you have William's apartment raided like I asked?" He asked Abram coldly. Abram held back a shudder and nodded, avoiding his boss's eyes. It made him absolutely sick to think that Jefferson McCoy, one of the most celebrated war veterans, and begun investigating his own team.

"They didn't find anything," the younger man announced, and his response came out rougher than he had wanted.

"Sir, do you really think that this girl, Saya, is being hidden by someone within the government? There's no way…"

"That is the only way!" Jefferson erupted, standing up suddenly and slamming his fist down onto the mahogany desk. "You've looked at the reports! You've seen the evidence with your own eyes! We haven't been able to find her anywhere, because she has been hiding under our own noses this entire time!

'We found her DNA from a hairbrush in the suitcase," he told Abram slowly, out of breath, sitting back down into the large leather chair. "All we need now is to find one little piece of evidence, and we've got her."

Abram was quiet for a moment. He knew what Jefferson was thinking, and as much as he didn't want to believe it, it seemed the only logical explanation for the deadly woman's whereabouts was that she was hiding within the government somewhere.

They had exhausted every other possible option. Every new recruit, every new employee, had been investigated, but they'd found nothing. Every single incoming and outgoing flight since that day in October had been searched inside and out—nothing. Blood tests, DNA checks, tightening the clearance secretly within the entire state, and still, there was no word of the chiropteran queen.

"Who's next on the list?" Abram sighed, opening up a folder with a list of the highest-ranking people within the government. A few were already crossed off, including Glenn Williams. He tried not to say anything else when Jefferson continued to nonchalantly push capsules into his mouth.

"What was the name of that young buck who took over your department a few years ago?" Jefferson asked gruffly. "Rosdale, was it?"

"You mean Solomon?" Abram countered, taken aback. "No, sir, I'm positive he's clear. I hand-picked him myself 5 years ago when you had me transferred. There's no way—"

"I was his home raided." He said coldly, his eyes as piercing as blue fire. "Tonight."

Abram lowered his head. "Understood."

When Jefferson excused him, Abram stood, but couldn't allow himself to leave just yet.

"Sir," he addressed him humbly, trying to force himself to bring up a topic that had been clouding his ethical judgment lately.

"Have you been feeling any better? Did the doctors say anything?"

Jefferson actually smiled, though wryly, at his charge. "Even with today's medicine, Abram, they've only given me until the summer to live." His voice was wistful, but his statement was followed by a strong coughing fit.

"Sir…"

It made perfect sense to Abram, really. The reason he had been so intent on capturing the tiny female threat, his insistence the Red Shield finish off the new chiropterans in Egypt, Abram's own transfer directly under Jefferson.

Jefferson McCoy was dying, and he needed to exact his revenge, and eradicate all of the chiropterans in the world, before he died.

"Let me be the one," Abram exclaimed, his body feeling a rush of patriotism suddenly. "I will take over the mission. Let me do it."

Jefferson took out a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and coughed into it. Abram tried not to look surprised when he observed red beads of blood appear on the thin fabric.

"You have proven yourself a trusted comrade, Abram." He said proudly. "By the end of the summer, we will have won this battle."

They saluted one another, and this time, Abram left promptly. His heart felt heavy, and a strange sense of guilt overwhelmed him. He remembered his wife, flushed and excited coming straight from Ollie Tucker's Halloween party, telling him all about how he had met Solomon's girlfriend. A girlfriend, Abram had to admit, that he himself had started to believe didn't exist.

"_Honey, you should have seen them!" Catherine said laughed. "They looked just like we did 20 years ago! Abram, you've got to meet her; she and Solomon are so perfect for each other."_

He apologized to Solomon mentally, just as Glenn Williams walked around the corner, his normally jovial face, was serious. He handed Abram a folder.

"I just got these faxed to me," he said coolly. "Is there anything else you wanted me to translate? I had to have Solomon look these over, they were so jumbled."

Abram instantly knew the cause of Glenn's attitude. "So you overheard our conversation?"

"Some of it."

"I see."

Neither of them spoke for what seemed like hours. It was Abram who broke the silence.

"Solomon's vacation starts in two days," he said slowly. "Let's _hope_ he and his girlfriend will be spending their vacation out of town."

With that, Glenn nodded, and began walking the opposite direction down the hallway.

"Williams," Abram called him back.

"For the love of God, forget what you heard in there."

He didn't wait for a response before walking away, praying that Solomon didn't have anything to hide.

--

It took Solomon three days to wake up.

Considering the circumstances, Saya should have realized that it wasn't the conventional 8-10 hour sleep he was preparing for. She had carelessly fallen asleep next to him, and she had woken up expecting him to be gone, either at work or in the other room, with a note ready on the bedside table waiting for her.

But her eyelids fluttered open, surprised, when she realized her body was curled next to his, her short hair tangled in the buttons of his shirt. Solomon's form remained frozen after she shot backwards, blushing furiously, and he continued to sleep even after she attempted several times afterwards to wake him.

Something about his sleeping body was unnatural. Solomon looked so out of place, still and motionless like that. She pulled the covers out and placed them over him, if only to make the scene look more normal. Saya wondered if perhaps it was her previous experience with Haji, the idea that Chevaliers had no need to sleep or eat human food or do anything other than stand and protect, that had her so ill-at-ease, but that wasn't it at all. She had become so used to his body around her, his heartbeat strong and steady pounding so rhythmically it lulled her body to sleep, that it felt almost eerie without him following her.

She found reasons to stay in the room with him while he was unconscious. At first it was because she genuinely wanted to watch over him—after all, who knew what could happen to a chevalier after ingesting several times the lethal dose of various human sedatives? Saya tried to keep herself occupied cleaning up the glass shards in the kitchen, but soon she found herself wandering into his room whenever she was the tiniest bit lonely, and the red queen took solace in doing solitary things, in most cases reading, next to him.

Many of the novels he'd handed her days ago found their way onto the side of the bed she sat on, and a few more were stacked on his desk. Amshel's diary was there, too, because Saya knew that despite Solomon's warnings, she needed to know the whole truth before she could move on completely into the light.

It was on the second day, while she was reading a particularly boring and wordy entry in his journal that she heard Solomon's phone vibrating from the corner of his desk. She hadn't noticed it until that point, and after much debate she decided to answer it. Solomon certainly wasn't in any place to.

"Hello?" Saya answered uncertainly. The male voice on the other line was familiar, and obviously surprised at the woman answering.

"Hello? Rosdale?" He asked, confused. "Who is this?"

The man was Glenn, if she recalled the voice correctly. "This is Nicole," Saya corrected. "Solomon… can't come to the phone right now." What exactly was she supposed to say?

The man sounded relieved. "Oh, uh, hey Nicole. It's Glenn Williams; we met at the party, I think? Say, where's Solomon? I need to talk to him."

"He's sick," Saya replied, trying to sound calm even though she was scrambling for an answer.

"He's been in bed for the past two days," she continued sincerely. "Honestly, I've never seen anything like it—he's been out cold from the medicine for ages."

"Shit, I'm sorry to hear that," Glenn responded. "I figured as much when he didn't show up for that last meeting. They say the flu's going around. Sounds pretty serious, though; want me tell everyone he'll be out for the next few days?"

Saya sat down next to Solomon and swept the flaxen waves of hair out of his eyes. He didn't stir, and his slow breathing hadn't gotten any stronger.

"I think that would be best," she answered. "It would be great if you could do that. He won't get in trouble, will he?"

Glenn laughed and replied, "You're a sweetheart, Nicole. Nah, Rosdale's a good boy. I don't think I've seen him miss a day of work since he started. It's all golden, no worries."

"Thanks so much," Saya sighed in relief. "I'll make sure he calls as soon as he's…better."

Just as Glenn began to bid her farewell, he remembered something. "_Shit_. Sorry to ask you this, but could you fax me over a few papers? I had Solomon look them over for me, but if he's going to be out for a few more days…"

She reassured him that it wasn't a problem before hanging up, and found the papers Glenn was talking about with relative ease. Solomon had left them in a folder right on top of his desk.

Looking over the papers briefly, her nosiness getting the better of her, Saya soon established she had no way of deciphering them. It consisted entirely of word documents in some sort of Arabic script she had never seen. She could make out, however, little notes added on in pen throughout, and she recognized the handwriting as Solomon's.

_Conspiracy theory… Secret Research… Egyptian military force… Threat… Immediate threat… Fake… Planted evidence…_

Saya's body went numb as she read the last little note penned at the bottom of the final page.

_I agree with you, Glenn. It looks like this is a confirmation. It would appear that this is just a document we seized from the Middle East from one section to another, reiterating that American forces have become aware of research being conducted within their military force._

_Other than that, I don't see any evidence of any American involvement or conspiracies, and in my professional opinion it's nothing to be concerned about. It mentions the involvement of a third party ruining their operation in Egypt, but it doesn't seem to be anything for us to worry about. _

_Just like you thought, it's most likely Egyptian vigilantes, not some sort of third party. It's not a threat._

She faxed the papers without really feeling it, and briefly recalled a new stack being faxed back for her to give to Solomon. But her mind was too preoccupied to pay attention to any of it.

She remembered the first morning she woke up after arriving, when in his note to her he mentioned receiving information pertaining to her delicate situation. This must have been what he was talking about.

Mao had mentioned that tensions had rekindled between the Middle East and America recently, and of course with the American forces aware of the chiropteran research, they would be intercepting any information they could from the Egyptian military, who must have noticed the red Shield and assumed that the Americans sent an undercover group out to eliminate the threat.

However, Solomon had been covering their tracks the whole time. The government must have employed him directly to head this correspondence, and he had been feeding them lies. They must think him completely oblivious and naive, and with no clue as to what this "research" was really about. To anyone not completely informed of the situation, reading it would imply that the letters were as simple and innocent as Solomon made them out to be.

The head of the entire linguistics department would know what he was talking about, they must think, when it comes to picking out clues and messages hidden within the text. And since he wasn't told about the information beforehand, how would he have any idea about the true meaning? Solomon certainly wasn't lying about how convenient it was to have a job so deeply involved in the government—thanks to him, Kai and the others would be able to finish the mission completely unnoticed by the American government, written off as a minor terrorist group.

And as happy as she was that her family was safe from the US, Saya had to wonder if they were really alright at all. They hadn't given her any contact number, no signals, nothing to assure her they were alive and okay. She speculated whether Solomon knew for sure, and decided to ask him once he woke up.

But it took Solomon another day to wake up.

And it took Saya that long to realize that she loved him.

She wasn't sure exactly if she was _in love_ with him, but when she realized that watching his body remain unmoving for so long drove her almost insane, Saya understood that now she couldn't imagine her life without him. He had become an indispensible part of her existence.

Perhaps it really wasn't fair, that Solomon had made his way into those deep recesses of her heart in a few months while it took Haji almost a century. But she had grown to love Kai and Riku and George as her true family in only a year, hadn't she? And Saya couldn't even place exactly where Solomon stood in her heart, so it wasn't as though it was a romantic love. Kai and Haji were just as important to her. What made her love of Solomon any different?

It could only be expected that she have _some_ sort of affection for him. All of the things he had done for her, the way he had treated her—not to mention that fact that they were quite literally made for each other.

On the third morning she was just finishing the diary, in its entirety. She read the beginning and ending entries a hundred times over, but had finally reached the end of the middle parts she had skipped over.

Just before insanity completely consumed Amshel, and his entries became nothing but haphazard scientific theories and mad notes about Diva's expectant condition, he had written about Solomon, and he day he left Diva forever. Saya wiped a tear from her eye and smiled sadly at Solomon, and was grateful that he wasn't conscious enough to see or respond to her.

"Oh, Solomon," she sighed. "You never really loved me either, did you? You were just confused, thinking that you were supposed to…"

_August 17, 1953~_

_Today we officially ended all of our efforts in Germany, and all Nazi involvement is finished. Solomon returned today, and he successfully completed the task I had given him._

_Martin Bormann finally outlived his usefulness, and once the Nazi effort stopped providing useful test subjects from concentration camps and prisoners of war, I ordered Solomon do dispose of his fellow chevalier._

_When Solomon obeyed without a single question, I made the decision to keep Solomon for myself, and try to sever his attachment to Diva. He has become far too valuable in our master plan to waste on her emotion. However, I fear that detaching him from Diva may push him over the edge, so I have decided to slowly separate them, and let Diva focus her affections on her other chevalier, while I give Solomon something else to live for._

_Yesterday I promised Saya to Solomon._

_During his first years as a chevalier, I explained the dynamics of chiropterans to him. I told the rest of the chevaliers that the plan was to get Haji and Saya to come to our side willingly, and join us, so that Haji and Diva could produce an offspring. I never mentioned what we would do with Saya after that point, as Karl and James seem to cling to Diva, and Nathan has never mentioned any desire to stray from her, either._

_Solomon, however, is a different case entirely. Diva never chose him for this path—I did. When I suggested that he take Saya as his bride when the time came, he was shocked. His first thought went to Diva, and he told me immediately that he would never consider leaving her for the other queen. _

_But he was easy to persuade, when I appealed to his human emotions. Diva is fickle, manic, and easily distracted and manipulated, and despite the apathetic being he had become, Solomon longs for the unconditional love of someone made for him, and him alone._

_Solomon agreed that if we were able to persuade Saya and Haji to come to our side, he would ensure that the other chevalier stay away from Diva to make room for Haji as her groom, and he would take Saya as his bride._

_He seemed unsure, and it is necessary that he accept the idea as soon as possible. This plan will take Saya out of the equation, and will guarantee that he will not intrude on any of my plans for Diva in the future. I will continue to push the idea forward to him privately._

_If he believes that Saya is his reason for being, then soon she will be. Although I know Saya will never willingly come over to our side, for now I will keep the other chevaliers thinking that she will one day join us. That way, Solomon will have something to keep him moving forward and away from Diva, and I will be able to keep her for myself._

_--_

Saya stroked Solomon's forehead and curled up next to him on the bed. _You poor, used, chevalier,_ she thought sullenly. _Both you and I were manipulated by Amshel, just so he could use Diva for all of those awful things._

She did feel so sorry for him, too. In fact, after finishing the journal, she realized that the only thing stronger than her self-pity was her own sympathy for Solomon.

He and Haji, as different as the sun and the moon, were both brought into this world in very similar ways. They were both discarded by their families—Haji to be a slave, Solomon to be a soldier, into a life they never wanted, and the only thing that kept them alive was the thought of something better.

Unfortunately for both men, it had led them straight to her. Haji lived with her, and dreamed of a life with her before he was thrown into chiropteran servitude. And Solomon had become so jaded and disgusted with the world he had fought for, had so longed for a perfect world, that Amshel had easily convinced him that a new existence as a chevalier would show him the way, and that the twin of the queen he protected would ensure his eternal happiness.

Saya understood how he felt after he killed Karl, when he stood on the cliff with his piercing eyes watching the horizon.

_Maybe I am just lonely, too…_

"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry I couldn't help you. I wish… that I could have loved you, back then. I wish I could have seen you happy."

Deep down, the red queen knew that even if she had given into her heart's temptation years ago (and as much as she didn't want to admit, it had been a tempting offer for many reasons), it would never have worked out the way they would have wanted.

After years of bliss, however many it would have been, Solomon would have tired of her. His body lusted for her, and his natural instincts would have fueled enough affection to make her life absolutely divine, but after a while it would have run out, and it would just be two strangers, walking alone together for eternity.

_Just look at him now,_ Saya thought, justifying it to herself. _He has no feelings for me now. He knows that the only reason he loved me was because he was supposed to._

But that actually made her think that much more of him. That was what made her love him. Everything about him seemed to coax her, enticing her senses and making her want to reexamine her life. He was amazing, a perfect, intriguing mix of human imperfection and chiropteran flawlessness. Solomon listened to his heart, and followed his instincts in such a way that left Saya speechless.

Perhaps it was her body's instinctive response to his that lured her away from her crumbling relationship with Haji, but it was his personality that made it clear that there was no longer any way she could marry her chevalier when she returned home.

"Wake up," she commanded quietly. "Solomon, please, wake up. I miss you."

But he didn't wake up. Even when she found herself begging him to, Solomon wouldn't budge. His body was so uncomfortably stiff; it looked like a figure in a wax museum. Saya would catch herself watching his chest to make sure it was still moving up and down, and more than once she had placed her hand over his lips, which were parted ever-so-slightly, to feel the air escape from his mouth.

Saya knew he would object to her staying cooped up inside waiting for him to wake up—he was always trying to get her to go shopping or sightseeing, anything to keep her mind and body busy. But she didn't want to, she _couldn't,_ as long as he was here by himself.

_I don't want you to be all alone, Solomon._

She was just pouring a glass for herself in the kitchen when he finally stirred. Saya tip-toed over to his room, sensing that he had woken up. She stayed in the doorframe for a moment before walking over to his bed.

Solomon was still lying down, looking as human as ever as his sleepy eyes stared at the ceiling. He blinked a few times as he watched her walk over to him, and said nothing. When she sat down next to him on the bed, his eyes widened it what looked like a mixture of happiness and complete disbelief.

"Saya?" he asked, his voice still a little bit groggy.

She smiled down at him. "How are you feeling?"

He looked like he was about to say something important, but after scanning her smiling face, replied with a scratchy, "thirsty."

Saya laughed a little and nodded before hopping into the kitchen and grabbing the glass of blood she was preparing for herself. She was kind of giddy, and her body felt so relieved to have him awake. When she returned to his room, Solomon was leaning against the headboard, having regained most of his composure.

"These blankets…Did you..?" He trailed off after thanking her for the glass, pulling the covers off of himself, stretching his long legs.

"I thought it might make you feel more relaxed," Saya replied as he downed his drink. "You were out for so long. I figured you may as well feel comfortable."

Solomon swung his legs over the side of the bed, and they sat side by side. He looked rather concerned behind his mask of pleasant indifference. "So long? How long was I asleep, exactly? What time is it?"

Saya thought for a moment and remembered it the clock and calendar in the kitchen. She hadn't really been paying attention to the exact time and dates, and tried to recall it.

"It's about 4am, on Wednesday, November 27th," she told him. "You've been asleep for three days, Solomon."

"Three days…" he repeated back to himself. Saya felt him looking at her out of the corner of his eye, but she pretended to be looking at the window, suddenly too embarrassed by his attention and proximity to meet his gaze. His voice was as soft as velvet when he asked, "have you been here the whole time?"

"Yeah," she responded, a little nervous. "I wasn't sure when you were going to wake up, so I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Solomon just stared at her, and his eyes trailed from her face down her back and onto the other side of the bed, which had been occupied by her for most of the past three days. Saya was sure he could tell that she hadn't really left his side for the entire time he was unconscious.

"Were you worried?" He made it seem like it was such a shock for her to be concerned about his wellbeing.

"Well, yes, of course I was!" Saya retorted. She stood up and looked down at him still sitting. "First you were here, and then suddenly you were asleep, and you wouldn't wake up. You didn't even warn me! I tried to wake you up but you wouldn't even move." Her conviction melted away the more she spoke, and when she finished it was little more than a quiet observation.

Solomon continued sitting, and took a few minutes to absorb the information before standing up in front of her. She took an instinctive step backwards, but his hand wrapped itself around her wrist to stop her from retreating.

Saya had never stood with him like this before—both of them barefoot and natural, unpoised and relaxed. She had never really realized how tall he was. But his body didn't loom over hers like Haji's did, or intimidate her. His frame actually seemed to align with her perfectly. It was strange, that she noticed things like that all the time now.

Or rather, it was like she was finally remembering what her body had told her a long time ago, but that she had forgotten.

"You are so very sweet, Saya," Solomon said, smiling down at her hands instead of her eyes. "I can't imagine a worse, or more shameful state for you to see me in, but you somehow make me feel…alright with myself, for it."

"That's because you're just a person, Solomon," Saya explained to him. "You have feelings and emotions, just like everyone else."

"But this life should have made me better." His voice was radiating deep sadness, and the bitterness stung the air around her nose. "I'm immortal. Weakness is not an option. I'm not human."

"Oh, Solomon…Just because we're not mortal, doesn't mean we aren't _human._ You're still a person." She smiled up and him, and noticed he already had his eyes on her.

"No matter what happens, there are things about you that will never change. We were born and raised human after all." Saya laughed, trying to lighten the mood, and it forced a chuckle out of him. But she couldn't help but stop when she thought about what she just said.

"Well, I was born and raised, to _think_ that I was human."

Solomon just shook his head slowly, and smiled down at her. His hand moved to her cheek and Saya let him run it through her hair and rest it on the back of her neck.

"Saya," he declared softly,

"I can't possibly imagine a better person than the one standing in front of me, right now. In all my years if living, I have never met anyone, as kind, as caring, or as remarkable as you are."

"Oh, Solomon…" Before she knew it, her head leaning against his collarbone, and she sighed into his chest.

"I mean it," he repeated, his arms around her, pressing her face into his bare neck. "You know I do. You know how much you mean to me. But darling, really…" he trailed of, pulling her away and staring at her face again.

She looked back at him quizzically. "What?"

"It's 4 in the_ morning_, Saya," he chuckled. "Go get something to drink, and get some rest. I'll wake you up before I go to work later this morning."

"Are you sure you're okay?" She asked. Her body was unbelievably exhausted, but after seeing him incapacitated for so long, she needed to make sure he was alright—it wasn't a choice, it was an obligation, though she didn't know why, or care.

"I can't remember the last time I've felt so good," he said with a sly smile. He took her by the hand to the kitchen, and poured her a glass of blood himself. "Now please make me feel a little better and sleep a little bit?"

"Fine, fine," Saya relented, rolling her eyes at Solomon as she took the cup from him. "Go be a business man and do your work. I'll go to sleep in a minute."

"Thank you, dear," he sang, and pecked her softly on the forehead.

She watched him walk back into the hallway, as she wandered into the living room. Saya must have fallen asleep soon after she sat down, because she heard Solomon's soft angelic laugh when the sun started peeking through the curtains. She felt him lift her from the couch and bring her back into her own bedroom. In her weird in-between state of consciousness, she could feel his wavy hair, still wet from his shower, tickle her face as he laid her down on the bed.

"I'm leaving in a few minutes, Saya," the red queen heard him say gently. "I'll only be gone for a few hours, and then I'll be right back."

Saya couldn't make her mouth respond, and when she didn't reply, Solomon's lips made their way to her cheek.

He whispered his goodbye, but when she found herself waking with a start, calling for him not to go, the apartment was empty.

She didn't feel much like sleeping after that. Saya wondered if she felt off because he wasn't there for the first time in the past few days, but she knew that it was really because she couldn't stand the pounding heart she got whenever he touched her.

_How can I even feel this way?_ She asked herself, frustrated, as she walked through the hallway. Why couldn't she just go back to loving Haji as completely as she used to? That would be so much easier…

_Because Solomon showed you something better,_ her body answered in response.

And it was partially right. As she walking into his open bedroom, she couldn't help but pick up his familiar scent, and remember how similar it was to the smell of his suit jacket and hair when he'd pulled her toward him, thirty years ago, asking her for her hand.

That was the kind of love Saya realized she needed. Solomon had begged her, pleaded for her to go away with him—to live together, just the two of them for all of eternity. He has wanted her; badly enough for him to abandon his family and his own queen, and vowed his love as a human.

Even though Saya knew that he had been manipulating into that feeling, it didn't stop her from wishing it was as simple as he had made it out to be back then.

Maybe if it had been that simple, she would have said yes.

It was the kind of love that everyone deserves, and for the first time in her life, the last queen of the chiropterans knew she had earned something.

It wasn't a sense of entitlement, but after staying this long with Solomon, Saya knew that she could no longer marry Haji when she returned to Okinawa.

_It wouldn't be fair to him, or to me, _she justified to herself, sitting at the foot of the large bed.

_It's not like I love anyone more than I love Haji, but it just doesn't feel…enough, anymore. _And she knew Haji had come to the same realization.

But just as she was coming to an epiphany, her train of thought was interrupted, when she spotted a stack of papers lying on Solomon's desk.

"Oh, _shit,_" she muttered aloud, picking them up. She'd forgotten to tell Solomon about them before he left. And looking through them, she understood exactly how important they were. She needed to get them to him _now. _

Detailed chiropteran reports, the specific information masked well enough so that 'Solomon Rosdale' would think it was merely a translation job he should give him input on, yet far too obvious in its content for Solomon _Goldsmith_ not to see through.

These reports that Glenn faxed over were far more daunting than the first ones she'd read through. Lists of names she'd recalled as deceased Red Shield members, locations of the chiropteran attacks she had thwarted in the past. All of the files were in different languages, and even though the word 'chiropteran' was missing in each one, she knew exactly what they were about. Saya was grateful that she didn't see any indication of her or any of her chevaliers in there, and the current Red Shield members still seemed to be unknown, but she had a very big feeling that this up far higher than Glenn within the government.

And she knew very bad things would happen to Solomon if he were to go into work with no knowledge of it whatsoever. These weren't the kind of reports that should be unaccounted for.

Saya ran through the hall back to her room, and quickly found the classiest, most refined outfit in her closet. _I have to get these reports to him,_ she resolved. _It's my fault for not telling him._

In her own opinion, Saya thought she looked pretty good. She hurried into the entrance hall and looked through a row of key hooks that Solomon had shown her, each one holding the key to a different car. After scanning it once, she nabbed the one for the Rolls Royce she'd been eyeing.

Just as she was leaving, she realized that she left the reports still inside Solomon's bedroom. Cursing her forgetfulness inwardly, Saya darted back into his room, grabbed the papers, and proceeded to fall flat on her face after tripping over a blocky object near the door.

She looked at Amshel's diary with disdain. "As if you haven't caused me enough trouble," she hissed.

But as she closed the musty journal, a passage she had never read before caught her attention, and the intensity of the situation diffused.

_--_

_January 30__th__, 2006~_

_We are very fortunate that Diva has decided to finally take an active interest in the mating experiments. For a long time now, I have studied her lifespan, and if these chiropterans are anything like their human counterparts, then they only have a certain amount of time before they are unable to have offspring._

_Diva seems to realizing that her reproductive period is ending. It is absolutely necessary for her to mate and produce offspring before that phase ends. However, we have been very prosperous in that department as of yet._

_If my hypothesis is correct, then the end of her reproductive period should be relatively soon, most likely ending just before her next hibernation. If that is correct, that it will mean by the year 2008, the life span of Saya and Diva will be half over._

_--_

Saya was already downstairs in the underground parking garage before her mind completely understood what she read. However, it sunk in just as she was pulling out into the street.

_So…I'm not as immortal as I thought…_She thought aloofly. Maybe it was because she was raised so often to believe she was human, and humans and death went so commonly hand in hand, that it didn't really stir a reaction from her. In fact, she was much too preoccupied trying to remember how to drive a stick shift to care that she could no longer get pregnant.

Solomon had taken her to his office once or twice, and she remembered the way well enough to find it after driving for only 20 minutes. Saya briefly considered if perhaps her blonde chevalier had a reason for always telling her to wait in the car while he popped in to drop something off. But Saya knew that Solomon must at least have these reports in his possession, and she knew he needed to see this new information to keep the Red Shield cover-up.

_Not to mention you're dying, apparently, _her mind added in as she parked right in front of an immensely tall building. _Something tells me that if he knew, he wouldn't have waited this long to tell you that YOU'RE LIFE IS FUCKING HALF OVER._

Bright sun glaring off of the hundreds of windows adorning the outside of the offices was a stark contrast to the bitter cold it was outside. Saya wrapped her (useless) chiffon scarf around her neck and walked in, holding her head as high as someone would expect from the girlfriend of the mysterious, handsome yuppie boss.

Her fake confidence didn't last long, though, as the minute she approached a mousy looking bespectacled secretary, all eyes were on her. The woman stuttered when the young queen asked for her 'boyfriend's office number, and whispers erupted almost immediately after she announced her name and removed her coat to go through clearance.

_That girl right over there is his girlfriend? She looks younger than my daughter!_

_She's a cutie, though, huh?_

_I heard that one of the higher-ups had party, and that was the first time she'd shown up to anything!_

_I saw that same dress in a catalogue last month—I couldn't afford that in a million years!_

_They make a picture perfect couple…_

_Dammit, there goes my future husband._

Saya had to actively stop herself from turning around before the elevator closed and telling the men and women she'd heard them. She held an attaché case she found in Solomon's closet that she had placed the papers in, and watched the numbers on top of the bright, shining elevator door as they lit up, tentatively waiting for them to indicate she was finally at the correct floor.

A few people had accompanied her on the way up, entering just after she did. A few eyed her suspiciously as she replied to their normal pleasantries sheepishly. There was only one man left by the time she reached Solomon's floor, and when she searched her wallet and pulled out a clearance card, the man peeked at the security guard's hand, and turned away, embarrassed.

_Serves you right_, she thought smugly.

The office was very simply decorated, with only a large grey desk in front of several plain-looking, heave oak doors. It was very pleasant looking, actually, and Saya was sure she would have enjoyed the furnishings much more is she wasn't so positive most of the people in the building were trying to kill her.

"May I help you?" A man's voice broke the silence.

Saya turned forward and I saw a young man, sitting behind the desk. He was posh looking, with a grey suit that complimented his light hair and narrow frame. She handed his the clearance card Solomon has given her, and a new one from the security guard, and he smiled when she introduced herself.

He punched numbers into a keyboard she couldn't see almost inhumanly fast, and just as he pushed the intercom, one of the doors behind him opened, and a slightly nervous looking Solomon emerged.

"Mr. Rosdale, I was about to—" his secretary started before Solomon smiled and handed him a folder.

Saya felt Solomon take her hand. "Nicole's cleared, right, Chris?"

"Y-yes," Chris answered, and pushed a button on the desk that swung the door in front of them open. Solomon thanked him, and pulled her inside.

He walked over to the huge oak desk at the far end of the office, and he tugged her so quickly that her heels briefly caught in the lush green carpet. Saya leaned against the side of the desk, and Solomon turned towards her. He leaned in, and for a moment, the red queen was almost positive he was stealing a kiss.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed softly into her ear, narrowly missing her lips. Saya was surprised at his tone, and wanted to jump back, but his arms on either side of her kept her there. After a second, she realized why he was acting so strangely.

"Are there cameras in here?" she whispered in response. Despite Solomon's previous aggression, she felt him smile against her cheek.

"That's right," he sang as he pulled away. "But there isn't any audio, so we aren't being monitored too closely. And although I'm delighted to see you here, why exactly _are_ you here?"

"For you," she answered happily, presenting him with the tiny briefcase. "You forgot these this morning."

Solomon took it and inspected it with a quizzical look before opening it up. He scanned through the reports, and stared back at her, amazed.

"Glenn faxed them to you while you were asleep, after I sent him the ones you looked over already." Saya scratched the back of her head apologetically. "Sorry, I kind of…forgot to tell you about them."

"It's quite alright," Solomon said, opening up a filing cabinet behind him and storing the papers inside. "And thank you. I would have been in a lot of hot water if I didn't even know about these."

"That's what I figured," she laughed. There was an awkward pause, and Saya felt Solomon watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"I suppose," he began slowly, "that it would be unreasonable to assume you haven't read them?"

She smiled. "Sorry, but my curiosity got the best of me."

"Ah," was all he said in response.

Saya half wanted to actually apologize and mean it, even though she felt as though she was entitled know about what Solomon was doing. But as she was contemplating what to say next, he flipped her hair behind her ear and played with the thin scarf around her neck.

"I'm so sorry I didn't tell you sooner," Solomon said softly. "I suppose I was afraid that you'd get upset and worried if you knew that they had been investigating Red Shield."

Saya nodded, understanding. With no news of her family, friends, and chevalier for two months, having the first information be such a bad one should have terrified her. The US government being alerted to their secret third party attacks against the chiropteran forces in Egypt could easily spell destruction for Red Shield, if Solomon wasn't purposely distracting them by mistranslating reports.

She wondered why exactly the whole predicament didn't upset her more. But, considering the situation she had been in when she first read them, Saya had had a different chevalier to worry about.

"I really need to thank you," Saya said shyly, taking his hands in hers. "You've been watching over and protecting Kai and everyone to make sure they're able to finish the mission. This whole time, you've been covering up for them. I can't believe you're doing all of this for us."

"I'm doing all of this, for _you_."

She looked up just in time for Solomon's lips to brush a feathery kiss across her cheek.

"Let's get out of here," he said, smiling and nodding towards the door. Saya wasn't sure if he was oblivious to his charms, or if he had just reached a point where he didn't care if he left her in a stupor. "They didn't really need me today, and I may as well start my vacation early."

"Vacation?" she asked as he coaxed her to the door.

"I get a week or so off for Thanksgiving, and then a few weeks after that for Christmas."

"That sounds nice," Saya said after a moment of though. "But a little unnecessary."

Solomon laughed as he opened the door out of his office for her. He handed his handsome secretary a folder Saya hadn't seen him pick up, and escorted her to the elevator.

"Your secretary is...not what I expected," she told him when the doors closed. "I've never seen a male secretary before. But I am glad for the break in gender stereotyping."

"I merely find him less nosy than most," he replied. "He was a marine before he was wounded and discharged under questionable circumstances. From what I understand, his past is for the most part complicated. But I can trust him; He keeps his nose out of my business, and I give him a steady paycheck."

She and Solomon continued talking casually like that until they were about to leave the building, when a man's voice called Solomon back. He was jogging to catch them before they left, and when they stopped to meet him, Solomon rested his hand on her shoulder.

"Christ, Solomon, you're a damn hard guy to find lately," Glenn stated flatly, though he had a sly smile on his face. He greeted Saya by her pseudonym, and she smiled back.

"I just wanted to thank you for looking over those papers," he continued. "You really saved my ass. I was totally lost on what to tell Abram." Glenn gave a Saya a quick glance, like he was afraid she knew what they were talking about. She played oblivious and looked at her nails.

"Don't mention it," Solomon assured him. "I was happy to help. Tell him I said hi the next time you see him, will you?"

Glenn agreed, and after a minute or two of more small talk, they said goodbye. But just before she exited, they were once again called back by the tall, slender man. Before looking back, Saya noticed Solomon rolled his eyes impatiently.

"Say, Rosdale," he started nervously, "You're vacation starts today, right?"

Solomon nodded a confirmation.

"Will you still be in town during the holidays?" Glenn asked.

"No," he replied cautiously, though Saya knew that to his coworker it must have seemed very natural. "This is Nicole's first Thanksgiving in New York, so I was planning on taking her down to see the Macy's parade."

Glenn gave a visible exhale, and his relief made Saya uneasy. "Good. That's sounds like a good plan. Well, have fun!" He walked quickly back into the office while Solomon raised a flaxen eyebrow.

As they were in the parking lot, she asked him if he thought anything of Glenn's sudden change of attitude, and he attributed it to Glenn not wanting to get caught having Solomon being the one to actually review the documents. Even within the government, reports like that shouldn't be moving around so freely.

"And I thought that if I told them we'd be out of town, nobody would bother us on my time off," he continued. Looking around, Solomon asked, "How exactly did you get here?"

Saya took the keys out if her purse and the headlights of the shining red car blinked from about 100 feet away. "I drove," she told him. "I hope you don't mind."

"I didn't know you knew how to drive stick," he murmured, almost to himself. Solomon glanced down at her, and smiled coyly.

"I'll race you home," he said.

Saya laughed. "What?"

"I brought a car, and so did you, so I bet I can beat you back to the apartment."

She looked up at him for a minute before mirroring his sly smile on her lips.

"What's your wager?" Saya asked, trying to control the slight adrenaline rush flowing through her.

"If I win," Solomon began, "You let me take you out dancing, every night, for the entire week."

"Fine," she accepted. "And if I win…hmmm…If I win…" Saya trailed off, trying to think of something. She caught sight of Solomon's classic black suit in her field of vision. Three piece suits seemed to have come back in style, and he looked unbearably good in them. His burgundy tie looked striking against his white shirt and pale skin, and she touched the cool fabric with her fingertips.

"If I win, you dress like a normal person, every day, for the entire week."

It appeared to Saya as if Solomon had a little trouble accepting her ante, but he agreed.

"There are so deserted back-roads just off of that street over there," he said, putting his arms around her shoulder and pointing to a road just across from them. When she turned around to ask him where he parked, he was already gone.

Saya pulled out quickly just in time to see a familiar white car fly past her. They zipped through the parking lot and before she knew it, they were racing down the secluded street, the lanes just big enough so that the cars flew side by side.

She couldn't contain the giant smile spreading across her face. The engine purred and reverberated throughout the entire car—it felt so fantastic to feel control like this; it seemed like so long since she had been in control of _anything._

Saya turned to her left and saw Solomon speeding directly beside her. He must have seen her watching him, and winked after he turned to look at her. She blushed, and continued viewing the road.

Her phone started ringing from inside her purse, which she'd thrown onto the passenger seat. She knew who it was.

"Oh Saya," Solomon said from the other line. "Don't you know it's illegal to talk on the phone while driving?"

Solomon must have been pushing 140 mph, and pushed ahead of her on the road. She heard him laugh when she scoffed at his cocky attitude.

"Well, Solomon, don't _you_ know it's illegal not to wear a seatbelt?"

Saya sped up and passed him, soaring forward. It was relatively easy for her to balance driving and talking at the same time, even though she'd never done it before. Solomon didn't seem to have any trouble at all, and continued talking to her like he was an adoring husband calling up and checking on his wife.

"That's probably a useful law for humans," Solomon scoffed. Saya could hear his engine rev through the phone. "And for people who can't drive properly. But I hardly see any reason for me to wear one."

Saya saw a sharp turn up ahead, followed by a one-lane street that lead back onto the main road.

"You really should wear your seatbelt, you know." She laughed.

Just as her chevalier began to object once again, Saya cut him off, the speedy red sports car just an inch or so away from his white Porsche. Solomon had to slam on the brakes not to hit her. She looked in her review mirror to see if he'd made the turn okay, and glanced just in time to see him fly head first into the windshield.

"Oh my God!" Saya screamed, pulling over and running to his car. The windshield wasn't broken, but she didn't see Solomon's golden face from the behind the steering wheel.

He opened the car door just as she made it to the side of his car. His hand cradled his head, and he winced up at her as he swung one of his legs out.

"You sadistic, little,_ minx_," Solomon whispered harshly, rubbing his forehead. Saya waited for him to explode at her for almost killing him, but then she realized he was laughing.

And she was laughing too. She kept apologizing, petting his hair and hugging his chest, but Saya was chuckling all the while. After a few minutes, and more than a few weird glances from on-lookers, the red queen stood with her back to Solomon's chest, while he rested his arms around her shoulders. She reached up and touched his forehead, his bangs tickling her fingertips.

There was no evidence that, just ten minutes before, there had been a fatal concussion there.

"So," he said, sighing. "Does this mean you won?"

"As far as the bet is concerned, yes," she responded. "But technically, I think we both lost."

"We're almost home." Solomon spun her around and looked at her. "Would you like to just stay in tonight? We could order up some dinner and make a night of it."

"Sounds good to me."

Saya began walking back to her car, but Solomon slid his hand around her arm and pulled her towards his.

"I would feel just a _tiny_ bit better if I drove us back." He said, laughing. She snapped her arm back, taking some personal offense, but he wriggled his way around her torso and pulled her towards him, all smiles and laughs, and she allowed it.

It would be less work for her anyway—Solomon would have to be the one to come back and get the shining red car later.

They returned to the apartment just in time. The cold, wintery weather was now accompanied by storm clouds and misty fogs. What should have been a beautiful sunset was replaced by ominous rainclouds and thunder in the distance.

"Looks like quite a storm brewing outside," Solomon said, closing the curtains in the kitchen. "I suppose it's only to be expected—it was already snowing by this time last year."

Saya was watching him from the counter, and whirled the stool around, reminiscing.

"God, it's been ages since I saw snow," she said fondly, remembering the more pleasant aspects of her trek through Russia with Haji over 100 years ago. "Is it going to snow again this year?"

"Not unless by some miracle the hole in the o-zone layer reappears," Solomon chuckled. "About ten years ago, there was a huge fuss about the Australian government finally doing something about it. By the looks of the weather, it appears to have worked."

Solomon walked over to the fridge and poured her a glass. Ever since the incident at the party, he'd been extra careful to make her she drank with every meal. His cosseting didn't bother her after a while, especially since her body started craving it so often.

But after reading the diary this morning, she finally understood _why_.

Her body could no longer sustain itself as easy as it used to. She required more blood to continue living now that she didn't need to hibernate anymore, even though she could no longer bear children. And she most likely never create another chevalier, either.

"Solomon," she said, hesitant. "Can I ask you something?"

He handed her the glass. "Of course, Saya. What it is?"

She had a hard time finding the words to tell him she'd been reading the Amshel's journal, and it was impossible for her to ask him if he knew about the passage concerning her 'reproductive period.' That, of course, and her…death.

"You can ask me anything, you know that," he said when she said nothing. Solomon could probably tell she was having trouble putting the words together. He rubbed her hands in his and leaned over the counted to that his face was only inches from hers. Saya saw Solomon's phone light up on the kitchen table when she averted her eyes.

His fingers raised her chin to face him.

"I can't stand it when you're sad like this, angel. Let me be the one you talk you when you're having a hard time. Something is bothering you. Please tell me what it is?"

Saya had to force back tears, and also a smile. "Your phone's ringing, Solomon."

She was sure Solomon only answered it because he knew she wanted a minute to collect herself. Normally, he never would have abandoned her.

"Hello?" He said slowly, picking it up. "Glenn? This isn't your normal number…Yes…No, we've already left town…Why do you ask?"

Solomon's bright green eyes flashed red for a slight second, and he looked at Saya gravely.

"They raided your house?" he repeated, taking Saya's hand and pulling her into the middle of the kitchen. "What makes you think they're coming after me?...I see…They did?...I see…Yes…I understand."

"Solomon, what's wro—"

"Get your coat," he exclaimed, yanking her into the hallway. "My apartment's getting raiding tonight."

Saya jumped back. "What?!"

Solomon threw her a tiny black duffle bag, and wouldn't meet her eyes.

"The government's looking for you. They know you've got to be with someone on the inside. I'm next on their list, so they're coming here. Pack some of your things—we've only got a few minutes before they get here, and we're supposed to be in New York City."

He disappeared into the kitchen and she heard him rip the fridge open and remove the blood packets. Saya ran into her room and shoved whichever clothes she found first into the suitcase. Hairbrush, toothbrush, make-up case, all in the bag by the time Solomon finished thrusting all of his drugs into the medicine bag with the blood.

Within seconds they were on the balcony, each with a black duffle bag, ready to jump onto the adjacent building. Solomon peered off into the distance, and, taking a deep breath, looked so angry that it made Saya shudder.

"I can see them." He announced. "They'll be here soon. Are you ready?"

She nodded. "Yes."

There was a sense of freedom as she leapt off of the guardrail. Her blood pumping faster than any humans' could endure, her body zipping from roof to roof so fast the mist that hung in the air strung as she flew by.

Although the situation should have drew out a completely different emotional response from her, Saya was reminded of the euphoria she experienced hunting down chiropterans with Haji. But now, it was her golden chevalier by her side. Even in the early evening moonlight, he shone brightly.

Saya wondered how long she could go on like this. According to Amshel's diary, her body was growing older. Soon, she was sure she wouldn't be able to do even this, without a lot of blood beforehand. The red queen wondered what else the diary said about her metabolic conditions.

The diary…

_The diary…!_

"It's just a little farther, angel," Solomon said when they stopped on the roof of the next building. He rubbed her shoulders comfortingly.

"Lucky break we left the Rolls Royce on that road, eh?" She could tell by his shaky voice he was still on-edge, even though he was trying to calm her down. "We would never have been able to grab one of the cars out of the garage in time."

Saya stayed still when Solomon grabbed her hand and tried to lead her forward. She looked straight into his eyes.

"I have to go back."

When she turned to leap back to other building, Solomon yanked her arm back. She had never heard such horrified desperation when he shouted, "No!"

"I forgot something!" she argued, playing tug of war with him over her arm. "Let me go!"

"No!" he yelled. Rain started to sprinkle around them, and thunder roared. "Why would you--Whatever it was, I'll buy you a new one! I have to get you out of here!"

Saya apologized as she backhanded him across the face and ripped her arm from him. "I'm sorry!" Saya shouted, preparing to jump.

She threw him her bag. "Go get the car! I'll meet you there!"

Solomon cried out for her as she hurdled towards the last rooftop, but she was relieved when he didn't follow her, and when she looked back, he was gone.

Punching in the security code to open the balcony door, Saya made sure not to get any rainwater in the kitchen as she rushed to Solomon's bedroom. The diary was on the floor, where she'd left it. She cradled it to her chest, and she locked up the doors right as she sensed seven men rush into the apartment.

She found Solomon driving around in circles a mile or so from where they had raced. He must have sensed when she was close, because he pulled over just as she set up to leap down. But as she jumped, she felt herself falling instead.

Her heel, too fashionably high for its own good, had caught on the slippery railing, and sent her falling forward. Saya caught herself so that she didn't break her neck when she fell, but for a price. There was a sick crack as she fell on her leg, but she forced herself to run to the car.

Solomon slammed on the gas as soon as she got in. As she sat still, trying to catch her breath, she noticed Solomon glowering at her.

"What on _Earth_ is wrong with you?" he seethed. "What could possibly be so important to run back into a room full of people trying to kill you?"

"Solomon—"

"Do you have any idea what they would have done to you? Do you have any idea what it would have done to _me_ if they had caught you?! What would possess you to go back, anyway?"

Saya didn't answer, only unbuttoned her coat, and let the heavy diary fall onto her lap. Solomon's eyes widened in surprise, and she smiled slightly, even through the pain in her leg.

"Saya…Amshel's jounal…"

"I figured it was the least I could do," Saya chuckled. "After all of the trouble I've caused you, I figured _this_ would be the only thing that could single-handedly ruin you."

Solomon was silent for a moment, but then took her hand.

"Sweetheart," he said softly. "You haven't caused me any trouble."

"Your apartment is being searched right now because of me," Saya sighed, staring out the window. "What is they find something? Even if they don't catch us, what are you going to do if they find out you're hiding me?"

"Well, I suppose I'll just keep driving," Solomon answered thoughtfully.

"All of your stuff, all of your money…" Saya just couldn't get over it.

Solomon laughed and shook her hand about. "You're so funny, Saya. I want to show you something."

He handed her a tiny palm computer already open to a banking page.

"Now I want you to look at the balance in my account."

Saya couldn't access the page. "What's your password?"

"It's my birthday."

Saya remained silent. He had never told her when he was born.

Solomon continued to try and lighten up the atmosphere.

"December 15th, 1894, sweetheart."

"Oh," she said softly, punching in the password. Scanning through the page, the balance for Solomon Rosdale read: $4,670,890. She really wasn't sure exactly how that was supposed to make her feel better. "You could lose millions of dollars because of me."

"Just wait," Solomon warned. "Type in the same password on the next page."

Saya's voice caught in throat. It read that the balance for Solomon Goldsmith read: $694,700,300.

"That's wired to a completely secure account that no one else is aware of." Solomon laughed. "Although I'm confident they won't find anything, just remember that if they do, we'll be comfortable for quite some time.

"When the war finally ended, most of my brother's money and belongings went to Joel, considering they were technically relatives. From what Joel Goldsmith told me, the government had almost no hand in it at all, and they just settled it quickly. But everything from James and Karl, and all of Amshel's private accounts, went directly to me."

"That's amazing, Solomon," Saya murmured, in awe. She handed the palm device back to him, but when she moved the diary to the backseat behind her, her leg began throbbing once again, and she clenched it tightly.

"So just look on the bright side, dearest," he continued. "It's a bit on the ironic side, but now we really are going to New York City for the holiday. Try not to worry about it." He watched her for a moment. "Is your leg alright?"

"I think I landed on it wrong when I jumped down to meet you," Saya told him, rubbing her leg.

Solomon drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, and she couldn't determine if he looked frustrated at her, or disappointed in himself. But still, he appeared concerned when he reached over and placed his hand on the hand she'd rested on the fractured femur.

"Would you like me to look at it?" His voice was velvety smooth. "Does it hurt?"

"A little," she admitted. "But it's already started healing, I think. It feels better already."

Solomon eyed her suspiciously, and he pursed his lips the way he always did when he hesitated. He sighed, and gave her an encouraging smile, kissing her hand.

"As soon as we get to there, I'll make sure it's healed alright," he said. "You'll love the hotel we're staying at; it's lovely—right in the middle of Manhattan, you'll get a beautiful view of Central Park."

"It sounds great, Solomon," Saya replied, gripping his hand tightly. "It sounds…really great."

She wasn't sure how long they had been driving when Solomon told her they'd be reaching the hotel in only 5 minutes. Time passed so quickly when she was with him, like a dream. And lately, she'd find herself wishing that this dream wouldn't end. Life seemed so easy when he was around. Solomon treated every crisis with a grain of salt, and even now, while his apartment was being raided by an aggressive government, her golden chevalier was taking a vacation.

When he had the staff valet his car, he made sure to help his queen out of the car himself. But when Saya tried to put pressure on her leg, and it sent a searing pain up her spine, and Solomon wrapped his arm around her waist, lifting her off the ground so that her boots just barely touched the ground.

The lobby was crowded when they checked in, and nobody seemed to notice that she was pretty much fake walking to the elevator. They miraculously secured an empty one, and with no one else around, Solomon picked her up, and when they stopped at the very top floor, he carried her into one of only two suites occupying the hallway.

"What's the damage?" Saya asked him after he'd laid her on the bed, inspecting the leg. She shuddered and drew in a shaky breath as he raised up the hem of her skirt to feel her thigh. Even through the thick black tights she wore, she could feel Solomon's palm stroking her leg.

"You must have broken your femur when you fell," he said quietly. "But it healed incorrectly in the car…" his serene voice trailed off and he looked at her sadly.

Saya turned towards her kneeling chevalier and made sure to look determined. "Then I'll have to break it again to have it heal, right?"

"…Right."

Saya didn't expect him to stand up suddenly and walk into the adjoining sitting room, but when he reappeared, holding his medicine bag, she understood. He silently took out a hypodermic needle, and a clear vile, and once he'd filled the needle, he turned to her. She nodded to him, and after rubbing her arm with alcohol, she felt a sharp prick in the crook of her arm. The painkillers immediately began flowing through her system, dulling the pain.

"That should felt with the pain," Solomon told her. His handsome face was covered in regret as he handed her a face towel from the bathroom.

"What's this for?" she asked.

Solomon drew a visible breath.

"That is also…for the pain. I suggest, biting down on it." He paused. "Are you ready?"

Saya nodded, and Solomon sat down on the bed and lifted her leg onto his shoulder. He leaned forward, gripping her thigh tightly, one hand inching its way between her legs, the other pressing down the middle of her broken leg.

It was over in an instant, and she heard the 'snap' before the pain hit her head like a locomotive going full speed. Her back arched, and Saya's scream was muffled by the towel she'd stuffed in her mouth and bit down on. Solomon had broken it evenly, she could tell, and as painlessly as he could, and he pushed the bone into the correct position to heal properly.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he repeated over and over, stroking her hair, and kissing her brow. "I had to sweetheart, I'm sorry."

When the pain dulled, and the painkillers took full affect, she spat out the towel and Solomon handed her a glass of blood to speed up the healing.

"With this much blood in your system," he said, "your leg should only take a few minutes to mend."

After a half an hour, her leg was only feeling as much pain as she would have expected if she'd bumped her thigh on a coffee table. Solomon was already back to normal; his face (one she had admittedly grown to love), was smiling at her from the desk chair next to the king size bed she was sitting on.

He was gushing on and on about New York, and how he liked the city life. She enjoyed it so much when he got that way—no one else ever did. Solomon would lose himself in the conversation, just like she did sometimes, and for those hours they would speak, he wouldn't treat her like a soldier, or a queen, or a killer. He would treat her like she was Saya.

But at the moment he was explaining the areas of the city as though she had had never been there. Whereas, in reality, Saya had spent many months here the last year she was awake. She had to wonder if he remembered, all those years ago, that before reappearing when she woke up, it was a dark alley in New York that he said his final farewell to her.

_It was in Manhattan where you proposed to me._

"I hope you don't mind," he broke in suddenly, as though he had gotten ahead of himself. "I'm always taking you around like this. I hope bringing you back here, and taking you around the way I do, doesn't make you unhappy."

Saya was surprised at the sudden non-sequitur.

"N-Not at all!" She managed to get out. "Solomon, everything you've done, the time we've spent together—it's made me happier than I could have ever imagined.

"Sometimes you catch me off-guard the way you keep treating me to things, but I love it. I can't imagine a place I would rather be! You've shown me this whole world that I've never even thought of, and I…love it."

Solomon didn't smile the way she thought he would. In fact, he looked very serious, and Saya was tempted to take back what she'd confessed. Perhaps she had gone too far, professing to him like that. But she said nothing, and neither did he, for a long time.

Finally, his voice, somehow more beautiful than it had ever been, broke the silence.

"I want to be the one," he began, walking over to the bed. "I want to be the one to show you this world." Saya was leaning against the headboard, and Solomon sat down, he took both of her hands in his.

"Let me be the one you call when you're sad. Let me be the one you laugh with when you're happy. I want you to experience all of the joy and happiness in this world that you can. Until you go back to Okinawa, let me be the one to show it to you."

_Go back to Okinawa…_

"Yeah," she answered, suddenly overwhelmed with an emotion she'd never felt before. "Please, yes, I would really love that."

Solomon's warmth drew her in, and his arms held her as tears found their way to her cheeks, and onto the dark fabric of his suit. He normally asked why she cried, but he didn't this time. She wondered, through her own personal agony, why he thought she was. Maybe he thought they were tears of joy, or possibly of relief. Perhaps he thought she was just sad.

But it wasn't any of those. The tears were for the futures she knew she would never have. The future with Haji that could never be, the life with Solomon that she was tempted to accept now, but he no longer offered to her. The tears were for Haji, and the place in her heart that was meant for him, but was slowly being consumed by something else. At first Saya thought it was Solomon that now occupied it, but it was really just loneliness.

Hours later, Saya laid in the bed alone. Solomon had stepped into the other room to give her some privacy to change into her nightclothes and wash up for bed. He had reentered, to say goodnight, and stroked her hair behind her ear and kissed her on her forehead.

She could sense him in the other room. He could have been reading, or typing quietly on his laptop, but she couldn't tell. He had left the double doors leading to the bedroom open after she'd gotten into bed, and a sliver of light poked into the lonely darkness of her room.

Words lost to time echoed in her ears.

_If you ever need me, just call my name…_

I need you.

"Solomon," Saya whispered, almost inaudible. She didn't see the door open or close, but he was instantly, smoothly before her.

"I'm right here," he answered, equally quiet, but much sweeter than hers was. "What do you need?"

"Will you…sleep here with me tonight?" she found herself asking. For some reason, she couldn't stand the thought of being alone.

"Of course." He told her softly.

His heart didn't start beating faster, and neither did hers when he slipped into bed next to her. His blazer and tie were already gone, and Saya laid her head down on his chest. His body felt so painfully natural underneath her.

"I will always be here for you, if you let me," he said. "Always."

"Will you please, just, hold me for a little while?" There was no shame, only longing, in her shaky request. "I just can't be alone right now."

And even as she drifted off to sleep, blanketed in his arms, she felt an unbelievably comforting wave of understanding surround her. Solomon's heartbeat, slow and steady and beautiful, lulled her into slumber, and sang to her.

* * *

A/N: Oh Saya, when will you realize that Solomon still loves you?? Spoiler: REALLY SOON. SERIOUSLY.

And I will rarely do this, but the song I used for the beginning is one of my favorite songs of all time. It is by Savage Garden. Please listen to it, as I think it fits the tone of the entire story very well.

Please, please, please, PLEASE review!! If you have compliments, questions, angry WTF comments—all welcome! And I promise to update soon!!!!


	17. Take Me

A/N: SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY!!! Again with the late posting, I know! I can't apologize enough—majoring in law in college turned out to be harder than I thought! Fuck! But I made up for it this time! You know all of those questions you've had? Such as: Why is Solomon still alive? Will they recognize their feelings for one another? Well, it's about time I answered it all. **WARNING**: this is another long chapter, but I feel it is the best so far. (but please overlook any typos—I have noticed a few in my last chapters and I'm hoping I didn't miss any this time!)

Thanks an infinite amount for the reviews, and thank you for the feedback.

Please enjoy!

Chapter 17: Take Me

--The Point of No Return--

_Take me out tonight_

_Driving in your car  
oh please don't drop me home  
because it's not my home, it's their home,_

_and I'm welcome no more_

_  
and if a double-decker bus crashes into us  
to die by your side  
such a heavenly way to die  
and if a ten ton truck kills the both of us  
to die by your side  
the pleasure and the privilege is mine_

--

Solomon wasn't lying when he said the hotel had a magnificent view; from the spacious balcony of the gargantuan suite, the red queen and her golden chevalier could watch the colorful parade quite comfortably.

To get a better view, Saya leaned over the guardrail further and further, until she felt Solomon's large hands grab her waist to steady her.

"Don't you think you've gotten enough injuries this week?" he chuckled, pulling her back slightly. "Falling from a balcony forty-five stories up—not the best way to go, don't you think?"

Saya laughed, and hopped onto the balcony railing, Solomon's hands still resting on her hips. "Oh please, Solomon—we both know you would catch me."

"Well that's true," he said thoughtfully, but then looked at her with an almost feline smile. "But how much would you enjoy dropping down that far?"

Before she could reply, Solomon jumped and sat on the guardrail next to her. He hooked his legs underneath the bar and fell backwards, encircling her waist and taking her with him.

At first she screamed, and closed her eyes tight, but as seconds passed, and Solomon's grip remained steady and unwavering on her, she let the unbridled feeling of freedom engulf her. The city looked so beautiful from the way she was hanging upside down, not completely unlike a bat.

"Now just imagine freefalling about 500 feet down like this," he said, the sun's morning rays making his aquamarine eyes sparkle like diamonds. He hoisted himself up, and twirled his queen around once he'd placed her safely on the terrace.

Solomon had ordered up some breakfast for her once she'd woken up, and he excused himself to answer the door when they heard a knock signaling it had finally arrived. Saya was surprised to find that he had stayed next to her the entire night; Solomon always seemed like someone who couldn't stand staying still for so long, but when she opened her eyes, he was sitting beside her, leaning against the headboard, one arm hugging her sleeping form to his chest, the other on the TV remote. He was absentmindedly tracing tiny circles over her collarbone with his fingertips, and was flipping through news channels on the television too quickly for her to see and with the sound turned so low she couldn't hear.

He returned to the balcony within seconds and wheeled in a cart with several tiny trays sitting on it. When Saya gave him a questioning glance over the sheer amount of food he ordered, he merely shrugged, and rolled the cuffs of his shirt over his sweater.

"You were in the shower when I called up for breakfast," Solomon explained as she sat began putting plates on the patio table. "I didn't want to bother you, so I just ordered whatever I thought you would like."

She was already well into the first plate of eggs and fruit slices by the time he finished his sentence and she felt him watching her from across the table. He was sitting down, his hands folded casually in front of him, smiling.

There was still some food in her mouth when she asked him flatly, "Why are you watching me eat?"

"I think it's cute."

Saya rolled her eyes, used to his superfluous flattery by now, and wiped her mouth with a napkin. Solomon turned and rested his head on his hand, and watched the parade marching down below them. A chilly breeze, the only evidence from rain the night before, blew the unbuttoned collar of his shirt fluttering around his neck.

"I like that, by the way," Saya told him, taking a sip of her cocoa and gesturing softly at him. "Your outfit. I didn't actually think you'd make good on our bet."

He glanced her way for a moment and managed a wry smile. "I'm a good sport," he said, before turning back down to the parade and muttering, "cheater."

Saya laughed and watched him pout until he joined her. When she'd woken up, warm and snuggled into his chest, Saya just assumed he was in the same clothes he had been wearing the previous night. However, after she'd showered and finished changing into the clothes she'd packed for herself, the young queen realized he was wearing a different outfit entirely.

The first night she'd stayed at his apartment Saya noticed he wasn't wearing a suit, but he has still looked so…rich. But the pinstripe, button-down white shirt and distressed jeans made her double take. He pulled a pullover v-neck blue sweater over his shirt and she had watched him walk onto the balcony. Solomon looked so…normal. Still gorgeous, of course, but he looked more like dashing crush she would have had in high school, instead of the dazzling businessman who could have passed as a male model.

"_Why_ are you looking at me like that?" he asked, looking both slightly exhausted and amused. Saya just chuckled.

"I think it's cute," she mimicked. Solomon scoffed and threw a piece of bacon at her. She ate it, finishing off her second plate, and lifted the lid off of the third plate.

"This is so _good_," she said, her attentions suddenly switched from her chevalier to her breakfast. It was a plate of French toast, swollen and stuffed with whipped cream. Solomon was looking at her after she took a bite, and she offered him a forkful.

"Here, try some," Saya called him over to her side of the table. "Come on, it's really good."

Solomon relented and walked over to her, kneeled next to her chair, and she placed the fork smoothly into his mouth. After he swallowed, he agreed that it was delicious, but he was still fixated on her face, sniggering.

"You have whipped cream on your face," he revealed, standing up and leaning against the table. Solomon's long fingers trailed the edge of her mouth, and Saya wasn't sure if it was hunger, or lust, that made her reach out and grab his hand, and lick the cream off of his fingertips.

Her blonde chevalier didn't turn away, or snap his hand back, even when her fangs extended, and she nicked his index finger. When the blood reached the back of her throat, it was the queen that pulled away, fumbling for an apology.

"Oh, my—I'm sorry," she gasped, not sure what left her struggling for breath. "I didn't mean to…"

But Solomon's lips brushing against hers silenced her.

"It's alright," he said, drawing back and wiping a drop of blood from the corner of his mouth. _So he was catching the blood—of course. He wouldn't… There's no way he would _kiss_ me._

Solomon laughed. "But, you know, any time you have a want for blood, darling, all you have to do is ask for mine."

Saya smiled nervously, avoiding his all-too-welcoming gaze. "I think I'll be fine…Thank you."

"Oh," he responded, his face sinking, looking genuinely disappointed. "Alright."

She was so shocked by his reaction that she almost gave into her body's instinct to believe in that he still had feelings for her. Before she could go down that road, however, Solomon changed the subject.

"So what would you like to do today?" He asked pleasantly. "The parade's almost over, and most people will be going back home, so nothing should be too crowded."

"Well, did you have anything in mind?" She giggled, kicking her inward giddiness for melting when he pulled her from the chair, swaying and dancing with her to the music blaring from the parade below.

"You've been in a rut ever since you found Amshel's journal," Solomon remarked. He gave her a tiny smile before turning towards the progressively sunnier sky. "I was thinking that this could be a nice change of pace for you. Get a little spoiled, have a little fun; Forget, at least for a little while, those things that hold you back. You chose to live like a soldier for so long, maybe it's time you tried living like a queen."

"Then take me out," Saya sighed, smiling up at his surprised, but excited looking face. "You might be right. Maybe I do need a little shift." She paused.

"I'm all yours, Solomon."

The next things she knew, Saya was being pulled from taxi to taxi, down busy streets and into high-end boutiques and street-side cafes. His fingers laced in hers, Solomon encouraged her to buy, or at least try on, everything that caught her eye. Within the first 30 minutes of their outing, he was already having her original outfit sent back to their hotel, his queen now donning something much more expensive. Saya loved the look on his face when she would pair something together that he didn't like, and then buy it anyway. He commented that she must have a flair for making things work that should traditionally clash—reds and purples, a plaid jumper with a striped scarf. And after a while, Saya realized she was probably enjoying their outing as much as he was.

Soon, it was her leading them through crowds of people, her picking out where to have lunch, and it was Saya that asked if the sparking party dress hanging near the window came in black, since it would be so perfect, in case Solomon ever to ever take her out dancing.

And he did, of course—she knew he would sneak it in. That evening, she donned the black dress and it swung and fluttered around her thighs as Solomon twirled her around a dance club. As the night went on, the music became faster, jazzier, than she'd danced to before. But Solomon had continued to lead confidently, and he pulled her close and tightened his grip on the small of her back, and explained that if she wanted to dance _properly_, they were going to have to get much, much closer.

On their second night in New York they'd stopped in a bar, both of them slightly winded from the ice-skating escapade she'd insisted on taking. It was Solomon's fault, really, going on and on the way he did, talking about how he's been so fantastic at ice-skating in his human life. Saya called him on it, and before long she was hand in hand with him, cutting through the frozen rink to onlookers' amazement.

"You're very good," he'd said, spinning her on the ice. Many people got out of the way of the young couple, and Saya heard more than one person comment that the two people skating before them must have been professional. She had skated countless winters at the zoo, and, being a chiropteran (though she didn't know it at the time), she had picked it up amazingly quickly. And it appeared that, like Solomon's, her knack for it had stayed throughout the years.

At the bar, it was crowded, and she and Solomon snuck into a booth at the corner. He took of his jacket, and Saya said to herself that he was just too fantastic looking. He really did make good on their bet, and he looked prime in a plain long sleeve shirt, with a grey collared vest. Just as he moved closer to her, a waitress came over.

For once, Saya wasn't hungry, so she ordered a Kamikaze, which was Kai favorite mixed drink in Okinawa. The waitress turned to her blonde companion.

"I'll take a vodka tonic, with a twist of lime," he said amiably. The woman looked at him skeptically.

"I'm gonna need to see some I.D."

Solomon's eyes widened, but Saya laughed it off; she was carded all the time in Okinawa. "Sure thing," she said, reaching for her purse.

"Oh, not you, ma'am—you're fine. I just need his."

Solomon seemed frozen with shock, but when the waitress cleared her throat expectedly, he snapped out of it and smiled, handing it her. After she gave it back, her chevalier was silent, sitting tight-lipped across from her.

"You know, I am older than you," Saya suggested with a tiny smile. He just stared at her.

"The drinking age is 21. Who know that, don't you?" He sighed, and started messing about with the fringe on her scarf, moping.

"Is that why you wear suits all the time?" she asked. "I guess you do look older in one. Everyone at work thinks you're like 28, don't they?"

He nodded and absentmindedly played with her fingers on the table. "It helps with the look. I'm personally fond of suits, too, and they certainly don't hurt pulling off being older than I really am."

At long last, she mustered up the courage to ask him. "Solomon?"

"Hm?"

"…How old _are_ you?"

The waitress finally came with their drinks, and he took a sip before answering her with a bemused expression.

"I will be 143 this December," he said.

"Oh," she said awkwardly, looking away. It wasn't exactly the answer she was hoping for.

"I was 23," Solomon laughed, moving next her and wrapping his arm around his queen. "I was 23 when I was changed."

Saya looked up through her eyelashes up and pecked his cheek. But she pulled away and teased him. "So _little_. No wonder you look so young! You're so adorable! I've got decades on you, Solomon."

"Thank you so much for the reminder, _dearest_," he knocked her forehead with his chin, and then kissed it. "I never said I didn't like older women."

Perhaps it was that last remark that made the trip so enjoyable.

"We're on Broadway right now," he said on the fifth day, after they'd exited a tiny bistro Saya had smelled from a mile away. "Can I take you to see a show tonight?"

"So this is Broadway," Saya commented wistfully, mostly to herself. "When I was still in High school, I remember Mao went on and on about coming here and seeing a musical. I've wanted to come here ever since then, but she had to get her tickets months in advance."

Solomon tightened his hold around her waist and kissed her forehead as they walked. "I have a good friend. He's an old friend, and he's my connection to the theatre world. He can get me tickets to any show, whenever I want. All you have to do is pick one."

Walking past illuminated signs, framed posters, and reviews posted on restaurant walls, Saya knew the right show the minute she saw it.

"Phantom of the Opera," she read aloud, softly. Solomon stiffened slightly at her side. "A revival show, for the first time in ten years." She looked up at him.

"Will you take me to see that?"

He smiled and rubbed her cheek. "I'll take you anywhere you want to go, sweetheart. That play…I think it will be perfect."

He insisted on buying her a new dress, just for the show, even though she was just fine wearing the silky dress she already had on.

"This is a special occasion, darling," he'd said, "And if not for you, then do it for me. I lost a bet to aparticular tiny brunette, and I'm not wearing _this_ to an opera."

By late evening they were in their seats, the front row, and center of the balcony overlooking the stage. Solomon looked striking, his flawless skin glowing in the soft, dark light of the theatre, absolutely remarkable against the burgundy shift he'd worn with the tuxedo.

They had gone back to the hotel before the show, and she hadn't shown him the dress she'd bought, since it was already wrapped up by the time he had finished shopping. It took Solomon only seconds to change in the other room, and Saya watched him face when she stepped out to meet him.

She hadn't realized until then that she had picked out the dress with him in mind. It was a short dress, probably more cocktail that evening, like he would have liked, but the way the skirt poufed and flounced around her, and the way the sleeves missed her shoulders and capped at her upper arm appealed so strongly to her, and it looked like a dress he would have persuaded her to try on. Although it was wine colored, it had a very strong resemblance to a certain pale lavender dress she had worn to a fateful gala in Vietnam, and she knew Solomon had seen the resemblance immediately.

"You look divine tonight," he said quietly, leaning his head next to hers. His blonde hair tickled her cheek, and he laced his fingers over hers on the armrest. His lips brushed her brow just as the play started.

Watching the play was an…interesting experience. The beginning bored her, but slowly drew her in. At first, the characters seemed rather naive, whimsical in their own tiny world, happiness and sadness delivered so instantly and without motive. But as the show went on, Saya found herself more and more enveloped in the story, especially after the appearance of the…Phantom.

A young woman, grieving over her father's death, finds comfort in music, taught by a mysterious force she can't see. An old friend, rich and charming, reappearing just in time to see her blossom into a fantastic opera singer. A Phantom, alone and disfigured, clinging to his savior in life, the beautiful and talented young Christine, obsessed.

Christine and her beau, Raul, were easy enough to dismiss as fictional characters, but the Phantom, of course, stole her focus.

One of the last lines of the play, in the last scene, just after the Phantom released Christine and allowed her to leave freely with Raul, her true love, made her tear up.

Christine reappeared onstage, just as the Phantom crumbled in her absence. He looked up hopefully, his face tear-stricken. His savior had returned.

"_Christine, I love you_," he sang. And without a word, she placed her hand in his. But instead of moving towards him, Christine drew away, leaving behind only the wedding ring the Phantom had forced onto her hand.

Solomon's body tensed as the Phantom's final lament resonated throughout the entire theatre. When Saya glanced up at him, she saw her chevalier pinching the bridge of his nose with the hand that wasn't around her shoulder.

Karl…Saya knew who his solitary tear was for.

And after they had applauded the fantastic performance, and they walked together on the harbor and onto the beach, she knew who her tears were for, as well.

"Karl, and the phantom," Saya said started, her grasp on Solomon's hand tightening as they walked. "They were two different people, really, weren't they? You told me once that you were always watching over him, but he never saw it. He wasn't always that way, was he?"

"No," Solomon shook his head, "he wasn't. Karl was a…child, when Amshel had Diva change him. He was forced into it, terrified of this new life. He was twenty-one, but he seemed so much younger than that.

"Even though he was forced, though, he did find joy and beauty in his new life. Diva adored him, at first. God, they were so similar; they would disappear for days at a time, just the two of them, lost somewhere between madness and reality. I think Karl would have been okay, maybe, if Amshel hadn't done all of those horrible things to him. I'm sure he could have stood the physical pain, but Diva rejected him, and he completely lost it."

Saya stared up at him, but he was peering off into the ocean. "That was about the time of Vietnam, wasn't it, Solomon?"

He nodded sadly, closing his pretty eyes, "It was. Diva was always fickle, but he had never known anything else, so even a glance from her meant the world to him. But after fighting with you in Vietnam, he became obsessed with you. Amshel was merciless, and Diva wouldn't touch him after he lost his arm and leg. You were the only thing he saw, and it ended up destroying him."

"But, he had you, didn't he?"

There was a long silence. "No," Solomon admitted. "I just watched."

Although Saya wanted to comfort him, she knew that she could say would soothe his guilt. Back then, Solomon had been Amshel's dog; he was lost, confused, and desperate. But Solomon could have done something, she was sure, and she was also sure that he would never forgive himself for not doing so.

"He loved you." Solomon said suddenly, still watching the sea. "He was wrong, and volatile and dangerous, but I think he honestly loved you."

"Well," Saya murmured, enjoying the slight sting of the ocean air on her face. "He was the only one."

Solomon pulled back as if struck, and looked down at her, appalled.

"Don't say that," he argued. "Don't ever say that, Saya. Haji loved you, you know that. He still does. He absolutely adores you. After all…" Solomon reached into his pocket, and pulled out something small and sparkling.

"—he gave you this."

Her engagement ring.

Saya reached out and he placed it in her hand. Until now, she hadn't even realized she didn't have it in her possession. _I suppose that's how much it means to me. _She thought in disgust, _how absolutely sick I am._ But she had forgotten it back at the apartment, hadn't she?

"When did you get this?" She asked. She knew her voice wasn't kind when she questioned it. It fact, for some reason, she felt angry the more she looked at the ring.

"I found it on the counter just as we were leaving," Solomon answered gently. "I'm sorry; I meant to give it back to you sooner." She knew he was waiting for her to answer something in response, but she didn't have anything to say.

"When I said that you chose someone that didn't love you over me…sweetheart, I didn't mean it. I was just pathetic and sadistic and stupid, that's all. I know that Haji still loves you."

"No, you don't," Saya hissed, the ring making a painful imprint on her palm as she clenched her fist around it. "He feels _guilty_. He doesn't view me as anything other than his queen. He didn't even care enough about me to take me with him! He doesn't love me! And he sent me away, to you, so that he wouldn't have to tell me so himself."

"Saya, no," Solomon insisted, placing his hand on her shoulder. She brushed it off. "Haji just wanted you to be safe. I'm sure he—"

"Why the hell are you defending him?!" Saya found herself shouting, cutting him off. "Why would you even say that to me? Please, just…_don't_."

Solomon was silent, and she was grateful. She knew that he was only trying to help and make her feel better, but nothing he could say would change how she felt.

Haji hadn't left her any note, any number by which to contact him at all after they'd said goodbye months ago. He could be dead, alive, or somewhere in between. At his insistence, she had been shipped off to Solomon, of all people, for her protection. But to Saya, this was Haji's goodbye to her— A cruel, unforgivable farewell to their romantic life together.

She smile at Solomon, trying to look hopeful.

"Thank you," she said, "for trying to help, but it's just not something I can expect you to understand. This ring…" she held it up and let it glitter in the moonlight. "It doesn't mean anything to me anymore."

Saya felt Solomon watch her with a hesitant eye. After a moment, he asked slowly, "Are you saying you no longer love Haji?"

"I do love him," she sighed. "But not that way, not anymore. He'll always be my chevalier…but I think that's all he will ever be."

Looking at the ring one last time, she smiled. This time, her tear was for Haji, and it was out of love.

_Thank you, Haji._ She wished in her head. _Thank you for letting me go. Maybe I didn't find the future you thought I would have with Solomon, but now…at least I know how you feel._

_Now, I'll let you go, too._

Without another word, Saya ran towards the shore at full speed. When the icy cold water stabbed at her ankles, she threw her diamond engagement ring into the rippling water.

Solomon arrived by her side just a second after she tossed it. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

"Take me home, Solomon."

--

_Saya~_

_Pictures from the Halloween party. Enjoy._

_~Solomon._

The red queen looked around slyly, trying to sense if Solomon was still in the apartment somewhere. She normally caught him just before he left for work, but he must have left early today. But that was convenient, considering today she had a very special surprise for him.

Opening up the envelope, Saya found that she did indeed enjoy the pictures. Solomon certainly was photogenic. He almost glowed in every single shot. But it wasn't his handsome face or her low cut dress on the photos that made her blush—it was that no matter which picture she looked at, Solomon wasn't looking at the camera.

In every picture, he was looking directly at _her._

One of them captured her attention instantly. Flipping through, it was the first picture of them alone together. Saya remembered the exact moment in time in was taken—she had slipped clumsily on her gown, and instead of stumbling painfully to the ground, Solomon scooped her up in his arms, his body warm and comfortable up against hers. Looking at the photo closely, she hadn't noticed exactly how close they had been; her breasts was pressed tightly against his chest, and his face, smiling coyly, was only centimeters from her lips.

Staring at the picture gave her a strange sensation she had never felt before. It reminded her briefly of the photo of her and Haji that was forever lost. Saya had only noticed it was gone when she began wondering exactly what Haji looked like. She found herself forgetting him more and more each day. The picture of Haji and herself was dark, filled with shadows—a silhouette of beauty, but nothing more.

Her picture with Solomon was something strait out of a fairytale; a gorgeous party, diamonds, and smiles everywhere. She used to dream of a life like that, where she would be traveling around the world, experiencing everything there was to see and feel with her sword in her hand.

Now, instead of holding a sword, she held someone's hand. Perhaps Solomon was right—maybe she did look better in a dress than with a sword.

It had been very…difficult for her to decide on what to get him, but after seeing these picture, she knew. In fact, she should have thought of it sooner; days earlier, when she had remembered what day was coming up, Saya had gone snooping around in his room, and in the drawer of his bedside table she found a stack of old pictures. At first, she assumed they were pictures of when he was a child, over a century ago. But when she looked through them, she saw that they were from his newer life, of a chevalier, as well as his life as a human.

There was a picture of Solomon and Karl in front of the Vietnamese boarding school she'd infiltrated, dated back to the 1970s, and one of Solomon, Karl, and a richly dressed young woman, who she assumed to be Diva, outside of a mansion, from the early 1920s. There were several others, and Saya wondered if Solomon ever thought to share with her his experiences as a chevalier before he met her in 2005. She had read the diary, which described his actions in graphic detail, but he had never exposed any of it himself. She was very curious.

After all, she…loved him.

Even though she wasn't exactly sure how, or why, Saya knew that the place he resided in heart very large, and it was growing, no matter how hard she tried to resist succumbing to it. Her body no longer listened to her brain when it told her not to give into him, and she began longing for his presence every minute he wasn't beside her.

After a while, she decided to just enjoy it. In the end, nothing would come of her little crush, anyway. Soon, she would be back in Okinawa, by the platonic side of her tall, dark, and handsome chevalier, and everything between her and Solomon would be nothing but a pleasant memory to look back on.

_That's how Solomon wants it._ She was sure. _He's just enjoying me while he can. But he'll want to get his life back on track soon. He doesn't want to get involved with Kai and the twins, or Red Shield. It may end at any minute, but maybe we'll both be a little better for it._

Her little gift was easy enough to find. There were loads of art stores around, and frames were plentiful in such a big city. Solomon arrived back from work in the early twilight, just as Saya finished putting the flowers she bought in a vase.

"Good evening, Saya," he said, walking through the kitchen. Saya was sitting on the stool by the counter, and he noticed her too-innocent smile. "…What?"

Her smile widened. "Happy birthday."

Solomon chuckled and ran his hands through his hair. "You remembered. That's so sweet Saya, thank you." He peered at the red roses she'd placed on the counter, and walked over to them, cupping one in his hand, tenderly. "Are the roses for me? They're lovely."

"Well, there are those," she admitted, but then motioned to the living room. "And then there's that." Saya laughed. "But it's not a very impressive gift."

Solomon looked towards the room in question skeptically before taking her hand and walking around in it. After peering around for a few seconds, a tiny gasp escaped his lips, and Saya smiled.

He released her hand, as if in shock, and proceeded to walk slowly around the area. On every table, shelf, and flat surface, Saya had placed a different frame, filled with the memories of the past, from the earliest, graying picture she found of him as a small child, to the photos of them together taken only a month ago.

After he had gone full circle, he flopped on the couch, the picture of Karl, himself, and Diva clutched in his hand.

"I remember taking this picture," Solomon said, sounding a little stunned. He beckoned her over with his hand, and, like a child an excited child showing off a new toy, explained the history behind each picture to her.

One was taken when he was only 18, and he explained that was just after his parents refused his pleas to let him go to college, and forced him to enroll in the military instead. There wasn't a military draft for WW2 in England, but having a member of the Goldsmith family in the armed forces was necessary for his family's social and economical progression, or so his family told him.

He started off telling her about his human life, and stopped just after his life as a chevalier began.

_I was born on December 15__th__, 1894, in a small town just outside of Nice, in France. I didn't spend much time there, though; I spent most of my human life in England. I had three older brothers, which was surprisingly nice. My father was a very…serious man, and I was ten years younger than the youngest brother before me, so he left me alone with my mother for the most part._

_It's rather funny—I used to hate him for it, for being so busy, but looking back, my childhood was actually very ideal. My mother got sick when I was about six years old, so I went with her to France when she went to recover, while my father and my brothers stayed in England._

_For a while, things were good. The schools in France were very nice, pleasant. But medicine was still very primitive back then, and my mother had tuberculosis. She was healthy for a few years, and bedridden for a few more. The day after my mother's funeral, my father had me sent over to England to stay with him. He and my brothers were unable to attend it. I was eleven at the time._

_England really wasn't all that bad, I suppose. The rest of my traditional schooling took place in boarding school, but I was prepared for that; all children went to boarding school in England. My family was very cold, but we were merely strangers, and we only had to deal with each other when school wasn't in session. While I was there, my father remarried, of course, and my oldest brother, Remi, was already working beside him as head of the large conglomerate of insurance and banking firms. By the time I was fifteen, by second oldest brother, William, had become a successful lawyer, and my third brother Zachariah had married the only daughter of a very politically influential Swiss family._

_I graduated with honors—_top_ honors, actually. Ever since my mother died, I had dreams of studying medicine, but that was still far off, and since my two eldest brothers had been encouraged to explore education, I assumed I would be free to do the same. I was accepted to Oxford, but I had my sights set on America, at NYU, where I was also accepted. England and France…they didn't have anything left for me except memories. Europe was the old world, and I wanted to explore the new one._

_But my family had a plan on for my future. The Goldsmith family was well-known, and was growing more prominent by the minute, with all of the connection they'd established. The military, my father decided, was the perfect solution as to what to do with me; no one in our family had made that a career, and the Great War provided a fantastic backdrop to gain a reputation._

_I tried to get them to reconsider. I even wrote to my brothers, trying to get them to appeal to my parents for me, but they agreed with him. Perhaps they realized how fortunate they were to enjoy the hand they'd been dealt in life, and didn't want to ruin it. I didn't know what to do; my family wouldn't help me, I had no money to refuse—I was trapped. Before I knew it, I was being sent to the front lines._

_I was in the military for just over a year and half, and in an ironic twist of fate, the German troops introduced chlorine gas on my 20__th__ birthday. I'll…spare you the excruciatingly thorough details of my experiences in the war. Let us just say that it made me absolutely certain that death was not the answer. There was so much of it, everywhere, killing and pain everywhere. My whole life, I'd wanted to save lives, but here I was…taking them._

_As you read, in May of 1914, I went AWOL from the military. It isn't something I'm very proud of, but I don't regret my decision. In April of that year, almost all of the soldiers in my troop were killed by a gas bomb then went off right in front of us. I'll never forget waking up, a little over a week after the attack. I didn't know where I was, whether I was alive, or dead. There was a nurse who stayed by my side until my hearing returned, and she explained the whole thing to me. I believe her name was Nancy. Apparently Nancy's unit was stationed just off the coast, and she was waiting for her fiancé to come in. His name was Andrew, and he was in my troop, but she knew he was dead. I didn't have the heart to tell her I'm seen him with a German call-girl not three days before he died._

_My injuries were severe enough for me to be sent home to the English countryside to recuperate. Many of my injuries stayed with me until I turned; I walked with small limp from the shrapnel for the rest of my human life, and my hearing never quite returned completely. My father and his third wife (I never bothered to ask him what happened to his second) were ecstatic that I was hurt. It would make such a fantastic story to tell, my father said once, to go back into battle aft er such a traumatic experience._

_If I could, I would go back in time to watch my fathers' face when I told him I had no plans on returning. I had already withdrawn myself from the military. My family viewed it as complete insubordination, and rejected me completely after that. Looking back, I can't help but wonder what I really was to them. I wasn't much of a son, and as a tool…well, I suppose I wasn't very good at that, either. _

_Amshel took me in after my father and step-mother abandoned me. He paid for everything, and I had never even met him before he came to our summer house to defend me. My family treated him like royalty—he was the most famous man to ever come from the name 'Goldsmith'; he held high positions in several companies all around Europe. Of course, now I realize it was because he'd had 100 years to develop it, but at the time I was more than a little star struck. _

_Medical school was amazing. New York was amazing. That's when I first came here, you know, after the war was over. I absolutely loved it. I still do, actually; it will never lose its place in my heart. I raced through my courses and studies, and when I was 23, in 1917, I decided to return to the military. But this time, I went as a savior, instead of as a killer. I was volunteered as a medic for the front lines. However, just as I came to learn that man can save lives, I learned that he will yearn to take many more. For every one soldier I saved, fifteen more were lost. There just weren't enough of us who wanted to help people._

_I saw the rugby captain from my English boarding school in the infirmary we'd set up. His name was James Littmore—I'll never forget, because he wouldn't let me on the team because I wasn't tall enough. I was relieved when I saw his leg in a sling—such a tiny injury, but as I walked around him, his jaw was completely gone, along with his hands, and his hearing. I was too shocked to face him. The next day he was gone, and I never saw him again._

_I renewed my term for another three months, merely because I couldn't think of anything else to do. What was the point of going back to New York and pursuing a real career in medicine of I couldn't save everyone? At least there, I had talent. Maybe one person would get lucky and be healed by me. As that term ended, I saw humanity as what it was—a true living hell, agony personified in fleshy smiles and laughs, ended only by sweet death._

_Perhaps it was divine intervention…Not two days before my term was over, my station was bombed in one of the very last attacks made during the war. I was sure I was going to die, this time._

_When I woke up, I was positive I was still dreaming. All I could hear was the screams of those around me, calling for their mothers, for help, or for God. Nancy, the nurse who had helped me recuperate years before, had miraculously found her way to my post months earlier, gushing about her new husband. Her severed hand was still clutched in mine when they pulled me from the wreckage hours later._

_I don't remember feeling anything after that. Later they explained to me that a bed flown across the room, and it pinned me to the wall, cushioning the roof as if fell clean on top of me. Amshel was the only visitor I had, and he clarified what happened slow enough for me to understand._

_Amshel__ asked how I was feeling about a week later. He listened to me as a babbled on about death, and about the rugby captain, and about Nancy Caulfield. He handed me a handkerchief when I found myself sobbing angrily at my perfect face in the pocket mirror they gave me, and patted my arm when I yelled at the ceiling when they told me the war was over, and waited with me as I angsted over the war, and human nature, and death, and the uselessness of it all. He helped me out of bed and stayed while I got dressed and prepared to le__ave with him to France. _

_I stayed in the room he provided for me within his manor for the __weeks__ leading up to__ that fateful day in fall 1917__. He would personally bring me my food when I wouldn't come to dinner. He told me about my Goldsmith family, and that he was the only one who hadn't abandoned our 'grand history'. He told me stories of people he knew, and how all of them ended unhappily. He told me about all the wars, and e__xplained to me everything that they__ don't teach you in school. At first __I would cry, and we could pat my__ head, and he would pull me out of my fetal position on my bed, and help me dress for dinner. I was absolutely pathetic. I may as well have been dead._

_But as it got closer to autumn, his stories began changing. He started talking about a world wh__ere there were no wars. Amshel__ began filling my head with dreams of a peaceful world, where your friends wouldn't die, and women wouldn't die 6 months __after__ their wedding day…_

_In my depressed stupor that world seeme__d to be beckoning me in. Amshe__l, my big brother, who took me in cared for me, welcomed me into his perfect world. After another week, I had mo__stly regained myself, and Amshe__l told me it wouldn't be much longer. I'll never forget the look in his eyes—He seemed so excited and pleased to have someone to share his happiness with. He reached out and embraced me, and I told him Thank you._

_Amshel stabbed me, a fatal wound, right between the ribs. As I lost consciousness, I saw a pair of amazing, spectacular blue eyes coming towards me._

Solomon cleared his throat. "You know the rest after that."

But this time, Saya felt that same curiosity swell inside her that she'd been feeling since the moment David had revealed that she would be staying with Solomon. A man that she, until then, had believed to be dead.

"Actually, Solomon," she said uncertainly, turning her whole body towards him. "I don't know the whole story."

Solomon smiled lightly, as if he was talking to a small child. "After that, I was Diva's chevalier, sweetheart."

Saya's tone hardened. "I mean _after_ that."

"I don't know what you mean," Solomon admitted, keeping his tiny smile, but allowing confusion to break through. Saya took a deep breath.

"You died, Solomon," she said resolutely, and snapped at him when he tried to interject. "And don't try to tell me otherwise! I know that that night, you stepped into the alley and never came out. Haji told me…he told me that my sword cut you when it fell out of James' chest, and I didn't want to believe him, but…even after I called your name…you never came back…"

Solomon looked towards the carpet and avoided her gaze like a guilty criminal facing a victim's family. "I'm so sorry," he whispered.

"Don't be!" Saya pushed, touching his arm. "It's just, I don't understand. All of a sudden, you weren't there and I couldn't sense you at all—I was sure you were gone forever, but, here you are."

She didn't mean to sound as if she was unhappy for his continued existence, but had there been some way to reverse the crystallization process? If there had been, then Riku, even Diva or Irene, could have been saved.

"That night…" Solomon began his next story slowly, and pulled her closer.

_That night, I…did die. It wasn't you fault, angel, you have to understand; the sword just nicked me the tiniest bit, and, well, it couldn't have been helped. Before that day, I'm not sure if you know, I went to fight Diva by myself. Nathan came to my apartment, and told me the babies were almost born, and I knew it was my last shot of proving my worth to you._

_The exact specifics of the relationships between queens and their chevaliers will always remain somewhat of a mystery. I was the most battle-experienced, the fastest and most skilled of all the brothers, but I couldn't touch Diva. Every time I got close to her, my blade just inches from her neck, my body wouldn't move or respond. Before long, she was right behind me, and she drained almost all of the blood from my body. When I woke up, I was chained to the dungeon under Nathan's manor. I couldn't even move._

_When James came to taunt me, saying he would kill you, I…managed to escape. I didn't have time to feed before I found you, and it actually worked in my favor. Having so little blood in my system gave me enough time to stay and finish the fight before it…happened._

_I didn't want you to see me fall apart—I knew that even though you didn't return my feelings, you'd blame yourself and mourn my death. I urged to keep pulling forward, but I knew it was over as soon as you were out of sight. But like an angel of death, Amshel appeared before me, and mocked my death._

_I went to strike him, but my arm shattered on the impact. My legs feel out from under me, and I thought it was the end, and that he had, perhaps, gone to comfort his younger brother, who had at one point, loved him._

_But that wasn't the case. Amshel shoved his wrist into my mouth, and before I know it, his blood poured into my mouth. He told me once that he fed on Diva's blood daily, to keep himself the strongest chevalier, and although it didn't repair any of my body that had been crystallized, Diva's blood must have stopped the crystallization process from spreading to my brain and my heart._

_I don't remember much after that. I was dreaming for so long. I thought I must be in purgatory—it was too beautiful for hell, for too awful for heaven. I had spurts of consciousness, though, so I knew I must still be alive, somehow. _

_From what I understand, I must have been regularly infused with Diva's blood, and that, paired with the advanced technology Amshel had his researchers devise, my body slowly regenerated. It took…years to completely bring me back to life. When I woke up, I could sense that Amshel and Diva, along with the rest of my brothers, were long gone. God, it was only about six years ago._

_And from there, I just sort of started life over. You were still hibernating, and I had been given a clean slate, to do with life whatever I wanted. I did briefly consider staying in Japan, to wait for you to wake up, but when I contacted Joel Goldsmith and David of the Red Shield (and they were as surprised as you were to find out I was still living), they informed me that Kai Miyagusuku and Diva's daughters were quite happy in Okinawa, with Haji. I took the hint gracefully—I didn't need them thinking I would ruin the happiness they had created. I invented Solomon Rosdale, and after a little work, found a job that suited my talents, just in time to replace Abram Michaels as head of the Linguistics department._

_They didn't notify me when you finally woke up, but I could feel it, even from half a world apart. I thought I would never see you again, but when Red Shield contacted me about a possible threat, I hacked the system and confirmed it. I wasn't able to find the exact people looking for you, but they informed me that, in three days, you would arrive on a plane in New York, so that I could protect you._

"—and, well, here you are."

Saya felt Solomon's eyes on her face as she stared at the fireplace dancing happily. "Were you ever going to tell me, Solomon?"

He placed his finger under her chin and lifter her face to meet his. "Tell you what, angel?"

"Were you ever going to tell me you were alive?"

Once again, Solomon averted his eyes, ashamed. "No, I wasn't." He elaborated when her voice, filled with anguish, broke while asking 'why not?'

"I didn't think you would have wanted to see me. I would have only been a reminder of the life you had before your hibernation, filled with blood and strife. I didn't want to hurt you. I thought it would be easier, for everyone involved, if I just…disappeared."

Saya's eyes widened at his past sentence, and she grabbed his shoulder and said earnestly, "That's not true! Solomon, I'm sorry," the queen stammered, kicking herself inwardly for pulling out pictures and memoirs he'd obviously wanted to keep to himself. "I didn't mean to do…this."

He looked down at her and had a look on his face she'd never seen before. She would later recall it as the look of a man who had absolutely nothing—not unlike the look of the young blonde man in his English military uniform in the graying snapshot.

"I was a Nazi, you know," he said offhandedly, crossing his legs, but keeping his arm carelessly drooped around her shoulder.

"Can you look at me the same way, Saya, after knowing all of this? My actions in the Second World War, and the first, my dealings with Amshel and Diva—you read the diary, it was a painfully accurate portraying the thing I was. The awful things I did as a human, you know now. Can you truly stand me, after knowing it all?"

To be honest, Saya had never really thought of it that way. Reading the journal, she had been disgusted with Solomon Goldsmith. The things he had done as Amshel's puppet were unforgivable, redeemable only the way that the actions of suicide bombers or Diva's passion-fueled, dangerous chevaliers, where so much devotion, piety, and insanity were concerned, a grudging sympathy crept in.

But somehow the man sitting next to her didn't seem like the same one she had read about, or even the same one that, 30 years ago, attacked her at the zoo after failing to persuade her to join Diva's side. No, in her mind, they were two different men completely. As separate as karl and the Phantom had been, Solomon had undergone a metamorphoses as well.

She recalled to her amazement the moment she'd snapped back to his offer for her to join him forever, saying that he cared only for her and himself, and not their families or friends. Solomon had replied so humbly, smiling softly as he stated that he would be happy to accept her old family into their new one, and would be honored to be one of those that she loved. Living side by side with humans, Red Shield, even Haji and the Shciff—that was not like the Solomon she'd first met.

His black suit absorbed the darkness, turning it ethereal and beautiful against his radiant skin, so unlike the white suit he'd always worn, which seemed to reflect impurities, making him free from the pollutants of the disgusting, mortal world.

"You changed, Solomon," Saya explained. "That person you were when all of that happened, if I met him I'm sure I would hate him, but you're…like a different person." He was silent so she continued.

"You used to feed on humans, but now you're making friends with them. Everything you told me that makes us different from humans, you've proven that they don't mean anything. That man that you hate so much, the one you still think of yourself as—I don't see him anywhere.

"I killed Diva. I killed your queen," she added on coldly, standing up, her tone detached. "I killed Amshel, and Karl, and James. In Vietnam, I killed more people that you ever could have. Even after I found out everything, I still killed chiropterans, who were once innocent people. That makes me a horrible person, doesn't it?"

Solomon shot up, his eyes wide with concern. "No, of course it doesn't!"

Saya let a small smile spread across her lips, and she cupped Solomon's warm cheek in her hand.

"I know it doesn't," She told him. "I know it doesn't make me a bad person. Everyone tried to tell me that, but it was _you_ who got me believing it, Solomon. You proved to me that bad things in the past don't define who you are today. I care for you, Solomon, so much…I could never, ever think badly of you."

--

Ten days later, on Christmas, Saya couldn't help but wonder if she'd said something she shouldn't have, of id perhaps Solomon was a liar, saying he didn't care for her.

They had been having one of their usual, casual chats in the kitchen after returning from dinner, and he had brought up Christmas, and asked if she'd like to go anywhere in particular for it, since he had time off again for the winter holiday. Saya had dismissed it, of course—what was the point of celebrating the birth of Christ, when she had been raised by a scientist who rejected religion as organized propaganda?

She explained, when he'd prodded, that George had celebrated it, but at the time, she had been awake for only about 2 months, and was still far too out of it to remember it clearly.

Halloween, Thanksgiving…they were holidays that Solomon himself hadn't expressed much interest in, so Saya sniggered when he was horrified at her complete disinterest for, and lack of experience in, Christmas, which he repeated, scoffing mockingly as '_just another holiday.'_

So she had expected him to go all out for it. After all, his insistence on ripping her out of her comfort zone was something she loved about him. But it seemed like something more this time, as if, with every step, he was trying to suck her closer to him, so share his traditions and stories, culture and hobbies. 'I will' was now 'we should', 'the apartment' was now 'home', and 'Christmas' was 'our first Christmas.'

Solomon had begun devoting himself so completely to her enjoyment. She woke up one morning a few days earlier, and walking out of her bedroom, Saya noticed Solomon had ornamented the entire apartment with Christmas decorations.

"What's all this?" she laughed, trailing her fingers along a strong of lighted garland hanging from the counter.

"I don't think I could forgive myself if I didn't expose you to at least one extravagant holiday," Solomon responded happily, walking over to her handing her a glass of hot chocolate that smelled like cocoa and cinnamon. After taking a sip, she asked if he had made it himself, and he'd scoffed, reminding her that he was a terrible chef.

"Why do you eat, Solomon?" Saya asked that, remembering the conversation where he told her that. "You don't need to, do you?"

"No, I don't," he disclosed, "but everyone seems more at ease when I do. Going out to lunch, going out to dinner, people would probably think I had some strange eating disorder if I refused to eat every time I was forced to go out."

"What does it taste like to you?"

Solomon took a moment before answering thoughtfully, "It's rather like expecting something exquisitely delicious, and getting dirt. It's taken me years to enjoy the taste of it again. When you're first turned, blood is the only thing that you actually enjoy tasting, or that you get hungry for, so when you go to take a bite and you don't get any, it's rather disappointing."

Saya brought it up again a few days later, after he'd taken her out Christmas shopping and brought her a bakery to try some of the seasonal treats they served. Red and green lights twinkled above her and she spoke.

"That seems unfair, you know."

Solomon laughed. "It really is. 1917…do you know everything that was invented after that? It's a shame, really. When I was human, I had a vicious sweet-tooth."

"I can picture that," Saya smiled, licking some icing off of her thumb. She cut it accidently with her incisor, but paid it no mind. "Don't you miss it?"

"Well, Solomon said, reaching over the tiny table and taking her hand in his, "I had found other ways to indulge myself."

With that, he took her thumb and nibbled the cut so softly it felt like a kiss, but her eyes saw the quick flash of red liquid enter his mouth. He smiled and laced their fingers together.

"What does that taste like to you?"

Solomon closed his eyes and answered wistfully. "Heaven."

Saya watched him savor the flavor, and decided it would be best not to question her blood's non-fatal effect on him. Solomon didn't seem to see the direct correlation between her blood's lack of potency, her growing weakness, and her approaching death. Of course, it was possible that he did know about it, and decided to avoid the topic for the same reason that she was.

Life as of late had been so…_fun_. After the raid on his apartment, Solomon had been so relaxed and carefree, and spared no expense to ensure her happiness. She'd asked him if they had found anything in his home, since they technically should have, but he merely laughed and said that they must have been looking for the wrong thing, and that even if they'd traced her location, it would take them months to prove it.

Glenn, the man who had tipped them have, had apparently done so because he thought Solomon was a drug-addict, or so Solomon said. They'd searched his apartment after he was first hired, he explained, before he'd thought to give his habit a second thought, but they'd liked him so much they'd looked the other way. Glenn must have been so sure of Solomon's innocence, he'd worried that the government would catch him on procession, rather than housing the chiropteran queen. He had returned to work as though nothing had happened, and that was good enough for her.

And she decided, as they chatted happily and he explained the traditions and fables around Christmas with a boyish grin and laugh, not to give the diary entry explaining his obligatory feelings for her another thought. Even if it was true, Saya didn't want to ask him about it. She knew that the romantic feelings he once harbored for her were forced, but she refused to let that stop her from enjoying his absolutely charming, platonic company now. Although it made her heart sink thinking that neither Haji, nor Solomon the chevalier loved her, she took some solace that, in some other world, she would have stolen the heart of Solomon Goldsmith the human.

Hours later, when the chills had left her spine, and her heart stopped fluttering, they walked past a tiny Christmas tree lot, and it reminded Saya of the glittering, tastefully ornamented, medium sized tree that had snuck into Solomon's apartment days ago, which was getting more and more crowded with presents underneath it as the days passed.

"How exactly is it you find time to buy all of those things?" Saya asked him. "You're either at work or with me during store hours, and I've never seen you buy a thing."

Solomon looked at her with an innocent smile, "I buy your gifts all the time when you're with me. Just last night I must have had ten things wrapped up for you."

"But I didn't see you buy anything!"

Solomon laughed and kissed her forehead. "You remain adorably oblivious half of the time. Plus, I want to surprise you. It wouldn't be half as much fun if you knew what I was getting you." He sighed, and purposely gave her a disapproving look. "Not that you've given me any hint on what you actually _want._"

Saya gave him her best supercilious look. "Well, it's not as if you'll tell me what to get _you_," she countered.

"But I don't want anything," he replied calmly. "I already got what I wanted."

"Which was?"

Saya really hope that he wasn't going to pull out any line admitting that she, the red queen, was what he wanted or something like that. She didn't think her heart could take it.

"You agreed to go to the New Years Eve party, didn't you?" Solomon asked as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. They were waiting for the light to cross the street to get to the other side of the large shopping district. "The fancy one down in Ravena?"

"Yeah, I did," Saya answered aloofly. He always made a big deal about things like that, as if it was such a hassle for her to go out with in, when in reality, she adored it.

"Well, that's all I wanted," he said, and bent down to kiss her cheek before pulling her across the intersection.

On Christmas Eve, Saya asked Solomon what he used to do for that day, when he was younger and would go home to see his family for the holidays. He seemed to enjoy it when she asked about his life before immortality, and he told her that, since he'd been Catholic then, His family would go to church.

Saya recalled that the only time she had ever even been in one was when, in a twist of irony, the vampires Saya and Haji had been forced to take shelter in a church, before rejoining Kai and Red Shield.

When Solomon asked her if she'd like to attend an open service that evening, she admitted that she'd like to try. A strange sort of Christmas spirit had been creeping in, and she thought it was a little unfair to celebrate without finding out the whole history behind it.

Garlands and lights hung from storefronts and lampposts as they drove through town. Last minute shoppers, many decked out in tacky sweaters, crowded every junction and stoplight. Every person that passed the giant Christmas tree in the town center smiled brightly at it, and the carolers on every street corner were wearing clothes Saya would have found herself wearing during the winters at the zoo.

"Everyone is so…happy," Saya said aloud, in awe. Solomon smiled.

"Christmas puts almost everyone in a good mood," he told her. "Some people are happy for the time with their families, and others for their faith. But for most, it's somewhere in between."

They stopped walking and stood in front of a classic, very gothic looking cathedral. It was tall, and they both watched at the cold night breeze blew and rang the bells in the spires of the roof. It sounded lonely and sad, but it reminded her oddly of the wedding bells she used to hear off in the distance in Okinawa. She wondered if Solomon thought the same thing.

They were greeted with solemn, abstemious looks despite the happy tone, and Saya supposed it wasn't personal—the entire place was very quiet and formal. A few of the clerics gave them a second, suspicious glance, and she wondered if perhaps they had some instinct of the monsters that the church was now holding. That, or they were merely looking distastefully at the unmarried couple in their midst.

Saya didn't recite the prayer that echoed off of the stony walls, or sing the hymns that praised the lord she'd never known. Solomon did, though; he did so without looking down at the leather bound book in their hands, as though he'd remembered it from his all-too-distant human life. He probably did so subconsciously, his body remembering how to act and song before his mind registered that this beautiful voice belted worship to the holy lord and savior. Perhaps he enjoyed feeling a little more human this way, feeling his humanity—something he had mentioned that he had wanted desperately to recapture.

Sin, forgiveness, redemption, salvation, damnation…Listening to the fervent minister preach about God sending his only son into a virgin and to die on a cross, and save humanity from their sins, taking the weight unto himself and suffering for them, Saya had to admit she finally saw why David and Red Shield were so reluctant to rely on her so exceptionally. Not only was the chiropteran queen the exact opposite from a divine being—it was also an impossible burden to bear for an ordinary young man or woman.

Celebrating the birth of the savior, celebrating the good of his entire existence, it was heartwarming, even for a woman who wasn't sure if she could ever believe it. Celebrating goodwill towards man, and tidings of great joy and fortune. Even if there was no God, or Jesus Christ, Saya was happy that people clung to the idea so completely. Having faith, believing, in anything; it was a beautiful thing.

Feeling saved was a beautiful thing.

"I'm not sure if I believe in God," Solomon said thoughtfully after the service was over, after she'd brought it up. "But I do believe in fate, so I suppose it would make me a bit of a hypocrite not to believe in some sort of higher power. What about you?" He smiled as they drove back to the apartment. "Has church made you want to convert?"

"I don't believe in God," she answered after a moment, "but I do believe in people. I think maybe God is just made up of peoples' feelings and thoughts. People are the ones living this world; I think that whatever created us, the world, or anything—it's all what you make of it."

"A circle of self-sustaining belief." Solomon summed it up very attractively. "That's a very hopeful philosophy, very _you_; I like it."

Instead of a dinner Saya just snacked on some of the holidays snacks they'd stocked into the fridge. She'd said earlier that week that she thought those Christmas specials that crowded otherwise normal TV networks were cute, so Solomon turned to one of them as he handed her a glass. She giggled more than he did at the dumb, mediocrely-acted movie, but he was smiling the entire time. Sometime after the first hour he moved next to her on the couch, and before it was completely over, Saya was falling asleep into his chest.

"I don't know why I'm so tired," she yawned as Solomon half-carried her to her room. "It's only nine-thirty."

Solomon laughed, and she wondered if he'd planned it that way. He kissed her cheek, "Get some sleep, angel. Sweet dreams."

It seemed as if only minutes passed from when she closed her eyes and snuggled into the covers, to when she found her blonde chevalier kneeling at her bedside, shaking her shoulder in an attempt to gently wake her.

"Saya," he hummed, blowing cool air onto her brow. "Sweetheart, wake up now; it's morning."

Saya rolled over and noticed the darkness seeping through her open bedroom curtains. She mumbled groggily, "It's dark outside, it's not morning." She heard Solomon chuckle under his breath, and he retreated to the hallway, but he returned just as she was starting to go back to sleep.

He kneeled next to her bed once again, and blew on her face until she groaned and shifted her position. A second later, she felt a cold flick of water on her face. Saya tried to ignore it, but Solomon continued until she finally sat and squinted at him in the darkness.

"Merry Christmas, darling," He smiled, and pulled her off the bed. Despite her drowsiness, she giggled at his warm touch. She didn't change out of her nightclothes, a thin tank top and knit shorts, before Solomon led her to the hallway, but covered her eyes and stood behind her.

"Ta-da," he whispered into her ear as he revealed the living room. Although it was so early that the sun wasn't up, the room was covered so completely with glittering gifts and sparking plates of food, shimmering garland and dazzling lights, that it was bright enough to be afternoon. Saya's attention shifted to the pile of packages under the tree, which had become so massive that many gifts lie on the coffee table and couch.

Instead of shying away from the spoilage, she felt giddy and smiled brightly as she walked through the hallway and around the counter, fingering the decorations and enjoying the soft carols he had playing in the background. Solomon took her hand and pulled her to the couch, and as soon as she sat down, he handed her a tastefully wrapped present.

"Open it," he said, smiling.

One by one, Saya unwrapped the gifts, gasping in awe at some of the things Solomon had gotten her. She had been secretly expecting extravagance from Solomon and his lifestyle, and she did get it—a pearl necklace, a diamond bracelet, and a few other sparkling baubles. But there was also a certain amount of intimacy in the presents; Saya opened a large package including a laptop, so that she could write or use the computer without having to use his, and a flat, palm-sized mp3 player, that way she could listen to whatever music she wanted to, without having to stick to Solomon's personal taste.

And one of the last packages, she held in her hands, stunned, after she'd opened it.

"It's a digital camera," her chevalier explained. "You told me you liked taking pictures. This way, you'll have plenty to take back with you. You know, as sort of… proof, that this actually happened."

Opening it up, Saya smiled and said, "It's pink. Thank you, Solomon, it's perfect. All of this, has been so perfect. Thank you, really."

"There's one more thing," Solomon revealed, walking over to the tree, and pulled out a long, white garment bag hiding behind it. She opened it tentatively, and after a moment, held a glittering, beaded silver evening gown in her hands. The morning sun was beginning to shine through the windows, and it sent glimmering reflections dancing around the room when it hit the dress.

"Oh, Solomon," she sighed in a mixture of astonishment and regret. Solomon had pointed out the dress when they were window shopping weeks ago, and Saya remembered commenting that she would die to wear something so stunning. She was ecstatic to receive it, but she'd made the mistake of looking at the price before leaving that day.

Solomon's face sank sadly. "You don't like it, do you?"

"I love it, honestly," she smiled. "I can't wait to wear it next week." Saya swallowed her insecurities and her fiscal concerns. After all, her chevalier had admitted that he adored spending his money on her because, quite frankly, he didn't have anyone else to spend it on.

"Wait here," she told Solomon, who gave her a questioning look. "I want to get you your present."

"Sweetheart, I told you I didn't—"

"Shut up!" Saya shouted, vaulting over the back of the couch and laughing from the hallway. Walking back to him, she held a tiny box behind her back, and added wryly, "but don't get your hopes up—it's not exactly very…good."

Solomon seemed to be too preoccupied with his own curiosity to reassure her, but he did chuckle, and he took the package from her. He unwrapped it carefully, and held up her modest gift.

"It's a watch," he said happily, observing how the gold glittered in his hand. "How perfect; I've needed a new for ages, but I never bought one. I'm so glad I didn't—I like this so much more."

Saya blushed. When she mentioned that, technically, she didn't _really_ get it for him, since she bought it with his money, his lips brushed against her cheek, and his melodic voice explained that he would treasure it, because she had chosen it just for him, special. Money, he said, had become such a trite subject for him, that he never gave it anywhere near a second thought.

Solomon told her that he loved the way the floor looked with wrapping paper and ribbons strewn about, so Saya made no attempt to clean it up, enjoying it quite a bit herself. Instead, she took pictures of it. She was able to take a few candid shots of Solomon before he snatched it away from her, pulling her onto his lap and taking a picture of them together.

Snow fell and sprinkled the ground when they left the apartment and went downtown. Rather than drive, they took a cab, and as Solomon paid the fare, Saya found herself twirling on the sidewalk, letting the delicate snowflakes land on her tongue.

As they walked up and down the streets, carols and Christmas songs he said had been playing for years filled her ears. One entitled _'White Christmas'_ began, and as Solomon smiled wistfully and sang along quietly, Saya reached to her side, and cupped a handful of snow into her hands.

They strolled into a little park. She ducked back, and threw it at the back of his head, but he turned around quickly, and snatched it from the air, the ball completely intact.

"Now, now, angel," he scolded with a coy smile. "That wasn't very nice. And look at this pathetic little thing…If you really want to throw one, you have to make it more like _this_!"

Quick as lightning, Solomon scooped up a handful of snow, and it hit her shoulder in a flash of white. But as he laughed, Saya threw a now perfectly circular snowball directly at his face. The deserted park was filled their laughter as their little war raged on, until finally, Saya leapt over a snowy hill and tackled him to the ground.

When she made a reluctant move to get off of him, he laced his fingers together around her waist, and she let her head fall into his chest.

After a few minutes of perfect silence, the queen asked, "Aren't you cold?"

"No," he answered quietly, then louder. "In fact, it's very warm." His voice was almost forlorn, even though his response was a happy one.

"Okinawa doesn't have snow," Saya found herself revealing. "It's never like this there. I'll miss it, I really will."

With that, Solomon raised himself up, still holding her to him.

"You can come back," he said hopefully, making it almost sound like a question awaiting her approval. "I'd love for you to come back, even when it's all over. Any time you need me, or if anything at all happens in Japan and you want to get away, just give me a call and I'll fly you right back here. Promise me, Saya, please. Promise me that you won't forget."

And that was the point of no return for her.

The days following only made it obvious. No longer was there a way for her to return to Okinawa the same woman that left it. The minor changes that she'd observed about herself, the tiny little differences she saw in her philosophies and manner, had become too major and important to forget. Okinawa, so small and isolated, could once again become her home, perhaps. But only if she was able to erase her memories of the months she'd spent in New York with Solomon.

Too much had happened. Saya realized far too much about herself to let her body and mind return to the place it was when she left Kai and Haji. She gave into her body's natural reactions and listened to it, allowing it to reveal that there was no going back to that life. It told her what it had said before, when he had met her at the airport.

Saya was impossibly, overwhelmingly in love with Solomon. She knew it, she couldn't even _help_ it—Months of resisting it had made it obvious. Despite the fact that he didn't love her, she found herself falling for him more and more each day.

But Saya began wondering exactly how truthful Solomon was when he told her that he didn't care for her that way. She felt stupid and pathetic and dumb for doing it, but she knew, deep down, that something was not right.

The night of December 31st, just like she promised, Saya wore the silver gown she received from her 'platonic' chevalier. It was gorgeous, even from her critical perspective, with sparkling crystals beaded into the entire structure, which was styled like a mermaid, hugging her form tightly and revealing her curves, the pleats and fabric flaring out only at her middle thigh.

When she emerged from the bathroom, her hair now curled and flipped at the ends, a black velvet box sat alone on her vanity.

As they prepared to leave, she noticed him eyeing her as she entered the kitchen from the hallway, looking satisfied when he noticed her diamond necklace and long, matching earrings. She laughed to herself when they toasted the New Year early with a glass of blood before they left, and Saya wondered if perhaps it was fate's cruel mockery of foreshadowing her future.

The party they attended tonight was an odd contrast to the Halloween party they had dressed up for. The biggest difference she noticed was that in October, Solomon had put on a show, actively holding her waist and playing up their relationship, raising up the normal bar of affection. Now, however, since they had become so close, she noticed him recede, touching her waist tenderly, and that's when she realized it would look almost as though he was pawing at her in public if he acted the way he normally did.

An attractive lady called him over when Saya found Catherine Michaels, the older woman who had been so pleasant at the Halloween party. Solomon excused himself to talk to the pretty thing, and Saya couldn't help but notice every time she touched his arm for a second too long, or when she traced her hand across his chest and fixed his tie. Both Catherine and Saya watched as he made no move to introduce his 'girlfriend', and when Catherine admitted she'd never met the little tart either, she suggested 'Nicole' go introduce herself to her—something Saya automatically agreed to, even though she knew she didn't have a right to intrude.

Saya's arm slipped around Solomon's waist, and she laced her fingers into his. He looked down in surprise, as did the woman he was talking to, but Solomon smiled widely after a moment.

"Olivia," he said, grasping her hand tightly, "this is Nicole, my girlfriend."

"It's so nice to finally meet you. And geez, that dress is gorgeous!" The woman exclaimed, her strait red hair shining too beautifully as she nodded her head excitedly. As Saya shook her hand, Olivia called over a very posh-looking woman standing by the bar, who smiled and walked over, her long legs flattered by the short black dress she wore.

"Solomon, Nicole, this is my girlfriend, Ladonne."

Saya smiled, a little in shock as the two _women_ kissed each other on the lips tenderly. She didn't exactly have a moral problem with it, but she felt her face flush when she and her chevalier were alone, and he looked at her, amused.

"Was that jealously I saw?" He asked. Saya saw Catherine walking over to them, and decided to answer honestly before they reached them.

"Yes," she admitted. "It was."

Abram Michaels was the name was Catherine's husband, who Saya was introduced to. He gave her a funny look, but smiled, and he appeared to be the kind of man that, unlike his replacement in the linguistics division, did not particularly care for formal affairs.

Many people around them had begun dancing in the ballroom, and a song began playing that Saya had heard on the street days ago. A Christmas carol, only playing in at this time, because it was appropriately named _'What Are You Doing New Years Eve?'_

"Oh, this is one of my favorite songs," Catherine said longingly, but with a smile. Like a gentleman, Solomon offered his hand to her.

"Would you care to dance, Catherine?" She took his hand with a smile, and Saya smiled, too, loving his friendliness. He added with a tentative look toward Abram, "That is, if your husband doesn't mind."

But Abram took Saya's hand in his, which was surprisingly calloused, and explained that he wouldn't mind, as he would be too busy dancing with Solomon's own attractive companion.

The older man was a surprisingly good dancer. She wouldn't have thought so by looking at him, considering he appeared more than a little uncomfortable at the event. They made a little small talk, and he spoke a little about Solomon, and how he had quite literally appeared out of nowhere to set up and replace him.

After an awkward pause, he smiled genuinely down at her and apologized for rambling, "I'm sorry, Nicole, I don't know where my head is tonight. I keep getting this weird feeling that I've seen you somewhere before."

"How funny," Saya replied with a smile.

He laughed, "but that's impossible, isn't it?"

The song continued as they danced without talking.

'_Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight  
When it's exactly twelve o'clock that night  
Welcoming in the New Year  
New Year's eve'_

A pale hand tapped Abram's shoulder, and Saya saw Solomon draw near them.

"I find I have to ask, if perhaps I could cut in?" His melodious voice was too charming for even Abram to resist, it seemed, and Saya watched Catherine wink at her, and lure her husband away so Solomon could pull her towards him seamlessly.

It was a waltz, she finally realized. It was a slow one, but she recognized the steps as soon as she was in his arms. He led so much differently now, compared to their other waltz in Vietnam, when they had been strangers, both realizing the _human_ attraction they shared for one another.

'_Maybe I'm crazy to suppose  
I'd ever be the one you chose  
Out of a thousand invitations  
you received'_

Slowly, they swayed their way out onto the balcony. The light snow that had fallen earlier made the white marble pillars look crystalline, and they sparkled as though covered with millions of facets. Stars twinkled above them, and Solomon stopped dancing, preferring instead to embrace her closely, burying his face into her hair as she nuzzled into his neck. After a moment, he pulled back slightly, and pushed a wisp of hair behind her ear.

"You remind me of Haji when you do that," Saya found herself saying aloud. Her voice sounded sad as it echoed on the deserted balcony. She slipped out of Solomon's grasp, and looked up at the sky. Solomon appeared too shocked by the observation to comment.

"It's not a bad thing," she clarified, looking at him briefly from the corner of her eye. "You two have a lot in common, now that I think of it. You're very similar."

Solomon walked hesitantly over to her, and placed a hand on the shoulder of his queen. His eyes drew her gaze to his face. His voice was soft, but definite, when he spoke.

"There are some qualities that he and I do not share. For instance, Haji's affection for you has faded, and ebbed, whereas my love for you—"

'_Ooh, but in case I stand one little chance  
Here comes the jackpot question in advance:  
What are you doing New Year's  
New Year's Eve?'_

"—my love for you had never waned. Ever."

Saya took an involuntary step backwards, and she felt as though the ground was falling out from under her.

She asked shakily, "What?"

Solomon took both of her hands and stepped towards her. A breeze blew snow onto her bare arms, but Saya didn't feel it.

"I told you that I didn't love you. I shouldn't have—it was a lie. There isn't anything more untrue in the world. I thought I was making it easy for you, and even if I was, I can't stop loving you."

Tiny kisses graced her fingers as Solomon brought her hands to his lips. "Saya, I love you. I do, I do. I'm sorry for ever telling you I didn't. I need you; I want you to stay here with me. The thought of you ever going back to Okinawa makes me die a little inside. Don't leave. Stay here. I will never, ever stop loving you."

Solomon's body was so warm, and he pressed his cheek against hers. His arms blanketed her body, and he held her close, as if he was afraid she would disappear forever.

"Please," he whispered, pleading. "Please tell me that you love me, too."

Saya leaned forward, her arms reaching up and encircling his neck. Just before Solomon's lips met hers, she looked into his eyes and whispered,

"There is nothing in this world I've wanted more than you."

* * *

A/N: thank you all so much for reading this far. Once again, I apologize for how long it takes me to update. Your reviews have kept me trying harder and harder to write every day, so please keep them coming! Your feedback helps me so much more than you know.

To keep you satisfied until the next chapter, I will give you this:

Solomon and Saya are in love. Period. And nothing I write will change that. However, let's not forget Saya's own chevalier in Egypt, who will hardly stand idly by as Solomon takes Saya away. And how long will it take for Abram to realize who Saya is? Because believe me, he will.

And what the hell ever happened to Nathan?

Please review, and Happy Valentine's Day 2010!


	18. Believe Me

A/N: I KNOW, I KNOW, I KNOW! I haven't updated since February, and it's August…Oh geez…Well, I could write a really long author's note, apologizing and telling you about the various financial, romantic, and intellectual problems of a now unemployed law student, or I could let you go ahead and read the new chapter of a story I really hope you are all still interested in T_T.

I'm really, really sorry!

HOWEVER I WILL SAY THIS! This poor chapter has been re-written about 5 times, so PLEASE enjoy it. I worked really hard on it.

AND THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEWS! SERIOUSLY! I WAS GOING TO ABANDON THIS STORY AND THEN I REREAD THEM! And now I am going to keep going!

Eerrr and this note is getting pretty long, but I really have to warn you…**WARNING**: The first part of this story is very…graphic. It was so SO difficult to write so please don't hate me if you don't like the explicit content! And there may be typos—I didn't have time to get this to my beta before she went back to school.

Chapter 18: Believe Me

-Decisions, decisions-

_Believe me, Natalie  
This is your last chance  
To find a go-go  
Forget what they said in Soho  
And walk away  
If my dreams for us can't get you through  
Just one more day, it's alright by me_

God help me somehow  
There's no time for survival left  
The time is now...  
Cause this might be your last chance

Fervent kisses, warm breath and the soft touch of his body up against hers'. The apartment was dark—they hadn't bothered to turn the lights on; or rather, neither of them had had hands free to do so.

Saya wasn't sure exactly how they had made it back to the house. One minute, they were at the party, the next thing she remembered was the heat of Solomon's body next to hers, and the feeling of his hands as they stroked the nape of her neck, trailing along her backbone, finally down past the small of her back.

Blonde curls obscured her vision as Solomon traced her neck with his lips. Saya breathed in his scent—it was fresh, young, like the first breath of air after a dive, or those first steaming minutes in a hot bath.

His touch sent a chill racing down her spine, and she didn't resist when his soft hands ventured under the straps of her gown, caressing the tender skin of her shoulder.

"Saya…" he whispered slowly into her ear. Solomon leaned down and pressed her body against the wall. They had made it to the hallway. His teeth nipped at her ear, as she realized that she was fingering and loosening the knot of his tie.

"I love you," he sighed. His lips were too welcoming, engulfing her completely. When his mouth opened against hers, Saya felt no hesitation on his tongue as it danced with hers. Through their whirlwind of passion, they found themselves next to Solomon's bed, and the red queen couldn't help but notice during their ardor that the feel of the smooth sheets was nothing, _nothing, _compared to feel of the rippling curve of his muscles, as his naked torso wrapped itself around her.

Saya heard the soft _thump_ of her heavy gown as it finally slipped off her body onto the carpet. Hungry kisses grazed her collarbone, and followed the curve of each breast, before his fingers began gently tracing her pert nipples and his mouth returned to hers.

The more modest part of her mind blushed as Saya whispered exactly what she wanted into Solomon's ear, and shuddered when he responded eagerly. Professions of affection, adoration, and devotion escaped his lips as she tugged at his belt, and his warm body pressed her into the down comforter.

The room was quiet except for the fevered gasps and hushed moans of the two lovers, the mattress naturally being so expensive as to prevent any conspicuous creaking. As Solomon moved above her, Saya's body responded eagerly. Saya felt a heat and tension build slowly, agonizingly, in her abdomen, and after what seemed like hours, when Solomon pressed his lips against her ear and stammered, in a hot, breathy whisper, "I—I love you," she lost control. Her back arched into him and he quickened his pace, and as she cried out and felt her extremities tingle, the power of her climax caused her to rake her fingernails violently down Solomon's naked back.

He hissed and pressed his lips against hers with a passion she barely recognized. She felt the warm, sticky blood drip off his back and shoulders and onto her face, and she leaned up against him as he thrusted languidly and licked the drops of blood as they marred his perfect skin. She felt his grip on her hips tighten, and he moaned and pressed himself into her deeper. She felt his muscles stiffen and he froze for a moment, then collapsed with a sigh, his face fitting perfectly into the curve between her shoulder and neck.

Saya sighed. Solomon rolled onto his back and looked at her, smiling.

He wiped beads of sweat from Saya's brow, and ran his hands through her hair. He was lying next to her now, but she was close enough to feel his heart pounding. His large hands pulled at her waist so that she was resting under his chin.

"Solomon," she said quietly. He was drawing her closer again and kissing the sensitive skin of her wrists. She didn't react this time, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Yes, my angel?" He chuckled slightly as his incisors extended and tickled the crook of her elbow. "My darling, my _love? _I have been waiting my entire life to call you that."

Saya smiled widely at the thought, and forgot her point. That is—until a tiny voice inside her head (most likely her brain), reminded her of exactly how fickle his supposed affections were.

_I gave Saya to Solomon_—that is what the diary had said.

She loved him so much, enjoyed the feeling and touch of his body _so much_. But try as she might to let the sex cloud her mind, Saya needed to know that these feelings of his were not obligatory.

Their first night together, a queen and matched chevalier…She didn't want this to have happened because he thought it _had to_.

"What am I to you, Solomon?"

He pulled away, and the absence of his warm skin made her feel incomplete.

"What?" Solomon's response was a confused one, but his face lost its lustful flush once he saw the serious look on her face.

"What am I to you, really?" It was more forceful this time. "I read a passage in the journal that said you only felt affection towards me because you were Diva's chevalier, and that is wasn't…real."

The sparkling turquoise eyes she'd fell in love with gazed at her in surprise, and his handsome face sank.

"Saya, love, you don't really believe that, do you?" Solomon took her with him when he sat up, and the hand that wasn't curved around her hip rubbed her cheek.

"I've been in love with you since the moment I first saw you! You remember, don't you, in Vietnam? Back then, I thought you were just a pretty young woman—a gorgeous, but otherwise normal human. Even if that was all you had ended up being, I would have gone to the ends of the earth to just have another dance with you."

He kissed her lips softly before continuing,

"If you want to stop, we can. I'll understand. You can leave as soon as you're dressed, I'll get you another apartment and we'll never speak of this again. Just…you have to know, you must know, darling, how much I love you.

"I'll love you forever, Saya, _my Saya_, because of _who_ you are, not _what_ I am."

"Solomon," she began, avoiding her eyes and looking at his bare chest. Her voice sounded uncertain, but her heart, and now her head, knew what she wanted.

"I don't want to stop, and I don't regret anything. I love you. God, _I love you._ I just need to know that loved me back—I mean, really loved me. I needed to hear you say it."

Solomon kissed her forcefully and leaned her onto her back. He took a deep breath, gathering in her scent. Saya saw him smile when he pulled back.

"Believe me, Saya, there will never be a time when you don't hear it." His words were cut-off, scattered between the times when his mouth was otherwise occupied.

"My immortal heart is yours, my love. Forever, it belongs to you."

And from that moment on, in the mind of the red queen, everything was right in the world.

Saya did not remember falling asleep, but she did recall closing her eyes to the lyrical sound of his voice in her ear, which happened to be the same sound she was awaked by hours later. Saya preferred sleeping on her stomach, and she was lying contently on his chest while his fingers walked slowly up and down her back.

She opened her eyes slowly, blinking quickly to adjust her eyes to the sunlight peeking through the curtains. Solomon must have felt her eyelashes flutter against his bare skin, because he adjusted himself so that he was on his side, nuzzling his face into her neck.

"Good morning, sweetheart," he whispered softly. Saya felt his lips curl into a smile after he kissed her tenderly. Before she knew it, she was pulling his head back towards her mouth.

"Good morning," she answered after a moment.

Solomon leaned on his elbow to prop himself up, and traced the outline of her jaw with his finger. "Did you sleep well?"

She nodded, and curled into his open arms. Saya heard him breathe in deeply and he stroked her hair. She was surprised at how comfortable she felt, completely naked, next to him. Perhaps it was the drowsiness still hanging over her from the night before, but the longer she stayed next to him, the more she realized that she wasn't insane or stupid—

It was merely nature finally taking its course.

"Would you care for some breakfast, love?" He asked, sitting up and wiping a strand of her bedheaded hair away from her face. Solomon's finger lingered on her cheek, and traced her lips softly. He continued before she could answer him. "I'll go make us something."

As he sat out of bed, Saya noticed he had slipped on his pants from the night before, sometime earlier that morning, most likely (probably to make her feel more comfortable).

She couldn't help but wonder whether or not Solomon realized how happy she was waking up next to him. Did he speculate if she had just been caught up in the moment last night—too wrapped up in their biological obligation to one another to realize she wasn't making love to her fiancé? Did he think she would wake up full of regret, too horrified with what had happened to stand his skin against hers'?

It was quite the opposite. In fact, Saya herself was surprised at how comfortable she was, waking up in his arms the way she did. It did take a moment for reality to set in, sure—as Solomon walked out of the room, the red queen felt the actuality of their actions last night took hold of her. But instead of a nightmare, it was a dream come true.

It was amazing, this feeling. She felt complete, finally. There was no longer any tiny voice in her head or in her heart telling her that life was missing something. The gaping hole in her heart, that had only widened since she'd began her stay with Solomon was finally filled, thanks to their decisive acceptance of their love for one another.

Saya, who's life had known nothing but strife, was the happiest and most content she had ever been.

Life was finally, _finally_, here.

She smelled a delicious smell pouring into the bedroom from the kitchen, and pulled on a large button shirt that made the memories of last night race pleasurable chills down her spine. Saya tugged at the oversized sleeves as she buttoned a few buttons, the shirt now being the only thing covering her, and brought the fabric up to her nose, reveling in the familiar scent of his cologne.

Solomon was standing in front of the stove, one hand holding a spatula moving over a simmering pan, the other on his hip. After a few seconds, he seemed to notice his queen peeking at him from the hall, and he beckoned her over with a smile.

"Come here, sweetheart," he chuckled. "I won't bite."

'_I beg to differ'_ Saya thought to herself, remembering fondly the feeling of his fangs nibbling her skin the night before. Solomon smiled playfully, as if reading her mind.

When she walked over to his side, Saya felt his hands wrap themselves around her waist. And he immediately scooped her up in his arms. He twirled her around and their laughter echoed throughout the kitchen. After a moment, her golden chevalier placed her gently onto the island counter in front of him, though their mouths were still connected.

"How do you like your eggs?" He asked, his mouth still tracing the nape of her neck. He pulled away and awaited her answer, but kept his hands on the sides of her bare thighs; his shirt covering her was just big enough to conceal what a short dress would—a very, _very _short dress.

"Scrambled is fine, Solomon," she responded. Sitting on the counter, the young queen could gaze about eye and eye with her chevalier, who was staring at her with a captivated look on his face. Before Saya could question his expression, he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, wrapping his arms around her.

"I love hearing you say my name like that," he sighed.

Saya chuckled innocently, "Like what? It's just like I always do."

"No," he shook his head. "It's different now. It sounds different. It sounds like…"

Solomon hesitated for a moment, and when he didn't continue, she lifted his head up to meet hers and encouraged him. "Like…?"

He looked her strait in the eyes and finished. "It sounds like you love me."

Saya cocked her head and smiled. Did her voice sound differently now? And, more importantly, was he just now realizing that her heart was his? She pulled him closer by wrapping her legs around his torso, and draped her arms over his shoulders.

"Well, I love you." She paused for a moment, and rephrased, "I love you, Solomon."

She planned on continuing, and elaborating on her affection, but she was cut off my Solomon's mouth on hers. It was desperate, longing, and eager, as if it was trying to capture her, or lure her in.

As if he was trying to possess everything that she was.

Didn't he realize he already had?

Solomon's sudden jovial laughter snapped her out of her tiny reverie, and he was swiftly pulling her from the counter, spinning her around, her legs still hooked around his waist. As he set her down, he continued to hold her tightly, and they swayed back in forth while Solomon hummed a tune she couldn't recognize.

"I love you," he whispered in her ear, before nibbling on it softly. Saya found herself scooted over to the kitchen table, where Solomon commanded her to stay until he finished preparing her breakfast.

"_You're_ cooking?" Saya repeated. It finally sunk in that the delicious smell was coming from something he had created, instead of something he had ordered. "I thought you hated cooking."

"Isn't it customary?" He asked, flipping the contents of the frying pan over. "I thought, after a night like ours, it was the least I could do."

Solomon began setting up two plates of eggs and Saya couldn't help but respond rather snidely, "Maybe it's customary for a one night stand. I'd hate to think that's where you've gotten your knowledge from."

"Ha!" He laughed his retort, "hardly."

He placed the plate in front of her seat at the table and sat next to her. Saya noticed that he had moved from his normal place, which used to be across from her. Solomon watched her eagerly, waiting for her to dig in, before touching his own plate.

"Well?" He asked after she took her first bite.

Saya tried to smile, even though the taste in her mouth was rather…unique. It looked alright on the outside, but it tasted both burnt, and dangerously undercooked at the same time. As she bit into a particularly tough piece of gristle, she felt her face contort slightly, and Solomon noticed. However, instead of looking disappointed, he just lifted both plates and threw them lightly into the sink. Saya thought she heard some of the ceramic break.

"So it looks like we're eating out for breakfast," He said frankly. She would have thought he was mad by the tone of his voice, but he was smiling at her from the sink. When she stood up from the table, Solomon opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself, and instead silently observed her.

Suddenly Saya was self-conscious about her clothes, or rather, lack thereof. He didn't say anything, though, which made her all the more curious. "What?"

"Well," he began, walking over to her and playing with the collar of the shirt, "I was going to tell you to go change into something warm and pretty for breakfast, but I actually can't ask you to in good conscience."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I mean, how on earth can I want you to change, when this—right here—is what I have been longing for my entire life?"

"Oh Solomon…" Saya whispered. His hair tickled her forehead as he pulled to into another locking embrace.

"I just…" His voice seemed to almost shake and his arms held her a little lighter. "I just can't believe you're really here."

To be honest, neither could she.

But, maybe that wasn't entirely true. Part of her new this day was coming; the day where her instincts would finally win over her human judgment, and she had awaited the day when her heart would make its final decision, and choose Solomon, whose love was natural, everlasting, and sweeter than anything she could have imagined.

"Finally, you're here," He continued. "You're mine, you're _mine._ Finally."

"I'm all yours," Saya said, tugging on Solomon's hair to move his head to hers. _God_ she loved doing that. "Everything is fine, now that we're together."

She relished their kiss for a moment longer before breaking away, and he was already smiling the way he did when he had something planned. He moved her shoulders towards her room and began incher towards it.

"Go on then," he said. "Get dressed so I can get you some edible food. There's a fantastic place downtown I don't believe I've taken you to yet—you'll love it."

Saya smiled and nodded, and as soon as she turned to walk giddily towards her room, she felt a satisfying 'smack!' from Solomon's palm on her rear. When she jumped in surprise and turned around, and caught him winking before he disappeared into the hallway.

She kept her bedroom door open as she took a quick shower and picked out an outfit. Solomon was, not surprisingly, already dressed and waiting for her by the time she stepped out of the steaming bathroom. He was leaning against her doorway, observing her with a curious sort of smile as she walked to her closet and rifled through the clothes inside. She couldn't help but notice that she still didn't recognize over half the garments in the giant wardrobe —Solomon had been buying her so many things in the past few weeks, she hadn't been able to keep track of it all.

"You look so good in pink," Solomon stated after Saya had pulled out a flouncy pink dress, only to return it back to the hanger. Even in winter, it was still stylish, sure, but Saya had never really been the type to be so overly…_feminine_ in clothes. She liked skirts and dresses, and pink was her favorite color, but it was normally reserved for special occasions.

"Don't you think it's a bit fancy?" She asked, taking a second look.

"Of course not," He replied, walking into the room and draping his arms over her shoulders from behind her. It was a gesture that seemed shared only between the two of them, one she would never tire of. He pressed his cheek against hers' and pulled her closer until their lips were touching. Saya couldn't help but almost melt into his arms, and after a few moments she pulled away slowly, her face hot. Solomon was smiling brightly down at her.

"You are a queen, darling, after all." He chuckled a little and rubbed his finger under her chin. "Can you blame me if I want to dress you like one?"

"Fine," She said, "pink is kinda my color anyway."

Solomon laughed and kissed her once more before going into the kitchen and getting them both something to drink. Saya joined him a few minutes later, wearing leggings and a turtleneck under the dress. Although the snow seemed to have stopped falling for the most part, it still glittered happily on the rooftops below, and although her golden chevalier might not freeze, the young queen was still quite prone to frostbite.

"You know, I've been thinking," Solomon began as they entered the elevator. "Throughout my life—well, I suppose I should say throughout my _second_ life, I've had about the same amount of blood every day, save for a few times when it wasn't available, and Amshel was the same way."

Saya nodded for him to continue.

"But recently you've needed far more blood than you used to in order to stay strong. I find that so odd, and so…" Solomon peered down at her as the valet brought his car around.

"—and so very disconcerting."

Throughout lunch they hardly spoke, save for Solomon's occasional inquiry on how she liked the food, or how she would enjoy spending the rest of the day. Saya couldn't help but answer as quickly as possible, even though she barely tasted the food in her mouth, and even though she didn't give a damn about how they spent the day.

It wasn't possible. It just wasn't possible that Solomon still didn't _know_, was it?

He had seemed ignorant, at first, about her hibernations ending. And he seemed surprised at her weakness, too, but he seemed to unconcerned about it recently that Saya had assumed—she had _hoped_, that he had had enough sense to put it together and read the diary.

Saya recalled the passage perfectly:

_January 30__th__, 2006~_

_We are very fortunate that Diva has decided to finally take an active interest in the mating experiments. For a long time now, I have studied her lifespan, and if these chiropterans are anything like their human counterparts, then they only have a certain amount of time before they are unable to have offspring._

_Diva seems to realizing that her reproductive period is ending. It is absolutely necessary for her to mate and produce offspring before that phase ends. However, we have been very prosperous in that department as of yet._

_If my hypothesis is correct, then the end of her reproductive period should be relatively soon, most likely ending just before her next hibernation. If that is correct, that it will mean by the year 2008, the life span of Saya and Diva will be half over._

Solomon had read the diary. He had kept it, safe and sound, for decades. Even if he had been unconscious for most of her own hibernation period, he could still recite passages from memory and recall all of the chiropteran experiments that were recorded inside.

Had he merely forgotten that one detail?

_Please, Solomon, please_, Saya prayed silently. She felt the grip on his hand get tighter the more she thought about it.

_Please don't make me be the one to tell you I'm dying…_

Solomon was respectful of her reverie. Her didn't intrude upon her thoughts, and let her stay quiet and thoughtful as they walked around the city for a few blocks, then drove around the countryside, as Solomon was so fond of doing.

And suddenly, as he kissed her hand, which was still clasped almost too tightly in his, she had a startling revelation.

"Solomon, can I ask you something?"

He smiled. "Anything, sweetheart."

She paused, but eventually asked, "How did Diva know she was pregnant?"

There was a visible jerk in Solomon's composure, and the car swerved ever-so-slightly as he struggled to maintain his calm. "W-what?"

"Diva and Riku were only…_together_ once, and Diva had Sonomi and Aoko over a year later. I'll never forget Diva's face; she knew, instantly, that she was pregnant."

Saya touched her abdomen and rubbed the flat surface thoughtfully. "And, thankfully, I know that I'm not pregnant."

Solomon touched her arm and his face remained pensive and serious. The tone in his voice was hard to read, but in Saya's opinion, it sounded almost wistful, and a little bit sad.

"Amshel told me once, that the chiropteran race was in many ways the next evolutionary step in human biology. His theory was that certain environmental factors must have secluded a large population of humans very early after humans evolved from Homo-sapiens. He theorized that like many other creatures, chiropteran queens had the ability to turn on, or off, her body's sexual response at will.

"Many mammals, such as bears and marsupials, developed a biological mechanism called diapauses that allows them to halt the production of an embryo to time the birth of an offspring with favorable environmental conditions. He believed that natural selection went a step further, and allowed chiropterans to ovulate, and become sexually receptive at their will. Becoming pregnant was something that, instinctively, Dive just _knew._"

The sun was almost gone from the winter sky by the time Solomon was done talking. The days were so short now. They were still driving, and Solomon showed no sign of pulling over, or turning around.

Every now and then, his eyes would flicker from the road and he would steal a glance at her tummy. Saya knew that he wanted to reassure her, and tell her that she couldn't possibly be pregnant, as she wasn't even aware of chiropteran biology enough to know how to be.

_You don't have anything to worry about, angel,_ he would say,_ you would know if you were, I promise._

He probably wanted to reassure her of his love—to tell her that even if she was pregnant, he was happy, no, _ecstatic!_ He would love to start a family with her by his side, and that he would support them, and protect them, and love them forever. To tell her that she would never, ever have to worry again.

_But it's not me I'm worried about, Solomon,_ She thought sadly.

_It's you…_

Saya may not be the most aware chiropteran in the world, but she knew her own body.

She knew her own, infertile body.

It didn't bother her, actually. In a way, she was very relieved after reading that part of the diary, and even more so after last night proved that Amshel's hypothesis was correct. Saya had never really wanted children, even after thinking she was human in Okinawa. Even as far back as living in the zoo, the red queen had never really deemed motherhood something she was destined for. And, it especially wasn't something she planned on, after decided that chiropterans, as a species, must be eliminated.

So there would be Saya, Solomon, Haji, Sonomi, and Aoko left in the world. Sonomi and Aoko wouldn't make chevaliers, she was sure. They knew the circumstances. It was unfortunate, but both of the new queens knew that it was the only way.

Especially now that they had…Haji. Haji would look over them as they slept. Kai was only human, after all-he won't be able to take care of them forever. When he becomes unable to, Haji will. That's the way Haji wanted it. It's the way Diva would have wanted it.

And Saya would stay with Solomon. After a while, it will seem as though that was the way it had always been. Maybe, in the future, she will be able to see her nieces again. Someday, she may even be able to face Haji, without breaking inside.

"Saya, are you alright?" Solomon shook her leg slightly. "You haven't said a word in over an hour; are you feeling okay?"

Saya tried to shake the fatalism from her thoughts and smiled. "Yes, I'm fine."

Solomon wasn't convinced and gave her a sad little laugh, "I don't actually believe you."

Saya just kept her gaze on the houses they were driving past and sighed. "I'm just thinking."

He must have known that she wanted the (albeit short) conversation to end there, and he remained mostly silent. She wasn't sure if Solomon could feel the tension surrounding her body, or if he noticed her heart beating faster. All she wanted to do was explode, and tell him everything that he had proven he didn't already know.

"_Don't you get it!"_ she wanted to shout. _"I'm never going to be able to have children again! I'm never going to be able to create another chevalier! My life is already half over!_

"_Don't you understand? My body is slowly shutting down._

"_Didn't you read it, Solomon?"_

"I love you, Saya," Solomon said softly. He grabbed her hand, which was resting in her lap, and held it tightly between the two of them. Saya closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Content, she turned to him, smiling. "I'm starving. Can we go get some dinner?"

Solomon seemed happy enough with her attitude and turned back onto the main road. He kept her hand safely in his, and Saya felt a strange sense of completeness in that simple act.

Solomon kept the conversation light during dinner, and she was attentive. The food was delicious, and she was happy that she was in a state of mind that allowed her to taste it. Unlike Haji, who preferred to sit across from her when she was eating, Solomon had moved himself next her, his arm casually draped over her shoulder or around her waist. He ordered himself a glass of red wine, and he sipped it elegantly in between their scattered conversation.

"I enjoy a good merlot," Her chevalier said quaintly. "I've always liked the way it tastes. You don't care for red wine, do you, darling?"

"It's alright, I guess," Saya replied lazily. "I prefer chardonnay. It's less…depressing."

"Depressing, my love?"

Saya averted her gaze to the table, and eyed her almost empty plate lying under her chin. She could see Solomon watching her from the corner of her eye, calm and handsome as a marble statue. However, there was an air of concern about him—which she was becoming used to the longer they stayed together.

"It just reminds me…" She trailed off, and Solomon nodded in understanding, allowing her to finish her sentence in silence.

"Ah."

On the way home they were both silent. Saya felt a bit guilty about that—Solomon must have felt a little more than awkward at the moment; the day after their first night together had certainly been less than the euphoric honeymoon he was sure to have imagined. It was full of painful silences and uncomfortable discussion.

Pregnancy, rape, death…not exactly pillow-talk.

Solomon opened the door to the apartment unceremoniously, but his fingers lingered softly along her neck and shoulders as he helped her out of her coat. He held her close even as she tried to walk into the hallway.

"You do believe me when I say you can talk to me about anything, don't you, Saya?" Solomon's voice was velvety and pleading, and it purred against her cheek. Suddenly she was pulled onto his lap, and he was sitting in the large armchair in the living room.

"Did I do something?" He asked when she didn't reply. "Did I upset you earlier when we were talking about Diva?"

Saya began shaking her head slowly, but her chevalier either didn't see her, or paid her no mind.

"Or was it the…_other_ thing?" He was fumbling for words now, so unlike him. "It must have made you so uncomfortable, talking to me about it like that. I'm so sorry, angel, I really am—I should have spoken to you about it before, or at least before we…I was just so ecstatic to finally be so close to you that it never occurred to me to even mention it, and I—"

"Solomon, please!" Saya cut him off. She couldn't stand to hear him getting worked up over something so insignificant. When she pulled away from his chest to look at his face, Saya saw his hands linger and try to grasp her afterimage. For a split second, his face seemed to crinkle at her absence, but his face regained composure almost immediately.

Saya was surprised that she noticed it, but she tried not to let his affection distract her.

"Please don't worry about it, Solomon." The red queen tried, but failed, many times to look him in the face, and she could tell that he recognized that.

"Things just moved a little quickly, that's all," she lied. "Today was bound to be a little awkward. It's alright, really."

Solomon's hair bobbed slightly when we gave a tiny nod. He smiled up at her hopefully, and drew her in. She let him, grateful that he didn't see through her lie, and accepted her response.

"Just know that I love you," he whispered, tangling his fingers in her hair. "Just believe me when I say that I will love you forever, no matter what. Life is unpredictable, but my love will never be."

Those last words struck such a painful chord in Saya's heart that it made her struggle to fight back the tears.

_Yes, Solomon, my dear, life _is_ unpredictable. Our lives—our unbelievably long lives have proven that._

_But just because we have finally found each other, it won't stop._

"You and me, together forever," He sang, lifting her off of his lap and standing up, still cradling her in his arms. He laughed slightly. "I said that to you once before, years ago, and you ran out onto the balcony. You almost jumped to your death! I can't say I'm not happy that circumstances have changed."

_Yes._

_They _have_ changed._

Solomon brought her into his bedroom and set her down on the bed. Before Saya could question his intentions, he disappeared into the attached bathroom and she could hear running water pouring through the pipes.

"I know you like to draw a nice bath and relax when you're thinking." Solomon said, smiling and sitting down next to her.

"I won't pretend that I don't wish I knew what you were thinking, but I respect your privacy." He kissed her gently and Saya heard a small purr from his throat when she tugged on his hair to keep him planted there. "I trust you, sweetheart. So please, please, don't worry."

Saya couldn't think of a reply that wouldn't be lying to him through her teeth, so she attempted a believable, "I know."

He kissed both cheeks, her nose, forehead, and lips before popping into the kitchen to fetch her a glass of blood. He took his time, she could tell, and he decided to slip into the hot water before he returned.

The bathtub was much bigger than the one in her room. It was like a Jacuzzi, definitely big enough for two people. Saya blushed at the thought, and noticed Solomon had taken the liberty of adding some scented oils and soaps. He must have taken notice of the times she prepared baths for herself to think, and memorized the scent.

God, she was lucky.

When Solomon returned, Saya smirked inwardly as he tried to remain collected when he walked in on her completely naked form, covered only by the bubbles floating on the surface of the water. He sat next to the edge on the luxurious marble edge of the bath, and handed her the glass.

"You like lavender, don't you?" he asked. Saya nodded, and noticed he had rolled his sleeves up and removed his suit jacket. She took a deep breath and slid down farther into the tub, and let her legs slip over the side, next to her chevalier.

Solomon eyed her suspiciously, and smirked.

"Do you enjoy teasing me, my dear?"

Saya, still nose deep in the luscious water, blew bubbles away from her face with a quick and nonchalant puff of air from her nostrils. She lifted her lips to the water's edge.

"I have no idea what you mean."

"Oh really," he replied, leaning closer to her face. "Oh _really._ You can't get away with that any more you little minx!"

And just like that Solomon's arms dove under the water, grabbing her waist and bringing her up to his level. His fingers danced along her ribcage, tickling her to the point of tears. Squealing and laughing, she was able to tackle him to the tile floor of the bathroom and pin him down. But he flipped her backwards, and pinned her hands above her head, his confident, cocky smile once again gracing his lips.

He held both of her arms with one hand and held her face to his with the other. "You didn't think you could get away that easy did you?"

Then suddenly, Saya forced her lips onto his. She could feel the shock pass over Solomon's face at her abrupt gesture, but he reciprocated graciously. They both sat up, and Saya pressed him again the side of the Jacuzzi. He hummed in appreciation at her affection as she pushed him higher and higher until her sat once again on the tub's edge, and then pushed him into the frothy water behind him.

Solomon looked absolutely astonished, his vest, shirt, and slacks all submerged in the bath. He shook his head quickly and water flew at Saya as she stepped in with him. When he tried to lift himself up, Saya took his arms and pressed him back down, so that only his head was surfaced.

Saya let the darker, playfully sadistic part of her personality take over, and forced his face below the bubbles. When he resurfaced, she pinned him again. When he didn't speak, she forced him down again.

"Alright, alright, you little wildcat," he choked, coughing some of the soupy water out of his throat. "You win."

"That's right," Saya laughed.

And, all at once she realized that she had just wrestled her chevalier, completely naked and slippery, onto the ground, and then into a steaming bath.

Solomon seemed to sense her sudden self-awareness, and raised himself up so that he was sitting at eye level with her, although she was still propped up on his (fully clothed) lap. He ran his hands through her hair and kissed her softly.

"Finish your bath, sweetheart," He said. "I'm going to change into something dry."

He kissed her once more before stepping carefully out of the bath and closing the bathroom door behind him.

Saya sank back into the tub and looked around the spacious room. It wasn't at all cluttered, but it was tastefully decorated, like the rest of Solomon's apartment.

Or, would it be, _their_ apartment?

Solomon had probably been thinking of it that way the moment she walked through the door, coming there for the first time from the airport. God, it seemed so long ago. They had come so far since then.

And yet…they still weren't on the same terms.

He still didn't know the whole situation, the real one. But after fooling around with him, and seeing his pained face after the awkward day, the red queen made a decision.

_I can't tell him, _Saya thought to herself._ I just…can't do it. I can't take his happily-ever-after away from him._

_If he asks about children…no, he won't do that…but if he ever does, I'll tell him I don't want them._

_And if he keeps worrying about my health, then I will just let him figure it out. After a few more months together, I am sure he'll forget about it._

_He may find out someday, but…I won't be the one to tell him._

Stretching, Saya stood up and wrapped herself in the fuzzy towel that Solomon must have set out for her. She opened the bathroom door carefully, peering out into Solomon's room, but he was nowhere to be found. She walked quickly to her room, seeing no sign of her new lover anywhere.

Saya didn't know why, but she was drawn instantly to a lacy, silky white nightgown she had bought on a whim, on one of Solomon's Christmas shopping trips. She had seen his eyes linger on the snowy fabric, and he fingered it softly. He had even pulled her arm back and examined her complexion against the silk.

"_You're a vision in white,"_ he had said wistfully, as if to say _'just a thought.'_

And of course, she just had to buy it after that.

Before slipping it on, she examined her nude self in the mirror. After taking a few steps back, she could see her body down to her calves. She turned to her left, then her right, and inspected some of her rather, _newfound _curves.

_It must be all of the blood I've been drinking lately, _Saya thought to herself. Along with her already furious consumption of food, her slowing metabolism mustn't have been taking too kindly to the extra "nutrients."

Still—she couldn't say she hated the change. Being rail-thin had only made her irritated. Saya had grown up in a time when having meat on your bones made you the envy of the town—you were rich enough to afford that much food! Sure, whalebone had forced her waist into a painfully small hourglass, but it also emphasized an exaggerated female figure. Mainly, it showed off a plump rear and overstated bust; something that the red queen had unfortunately become all too aware of watching boys look strait past her to the perky Mao, or the buxom Julia.

And, in Saya's opinion, this slight gain looked good. For once, she thought she looked at least a little sexy. She pulled on the slip and, turning around, admired how some parts of her body jiggled faintly at the tiny movement, commenting to herself that she looked as much like Diva then as she did when she they lived at the zoo.

Saya shuddered at the thought, and caught a glimpse of her face change from joy to disgust, in the mirror. She clenched the expensive fabric coldly between her fingers.

_No, Diva, you didn't live there with me._

_You were confined there; a prisoner there._

She peered out of her door and still didn't see Solomon in the hallway, and she didn't sense him in the adjacent room. Saya remembered when he had forced her to stay in his room, and read the passages explaining Diva's torture, one by one, from Amshel's diary.

She remembered his handsome face—it was so stoic and remote, except each time she read about a certain something, his face would flinch ever-so-slightly, and Saya would catch a glimpse of the young, naïve man Solomon was when he first became a chevalier.

Solomon kept his composure when she read about Amshel's deceptions to him, and even through his lies to Diva. He didn't budge when she sobbed through the horrific tale of the Schiff; he even managed to regain his poise when she described, one by one, the experiments his older brother conducted on his chevalier brethren, Karl and James.

But even Solomon's heart broke when she read about his queen, Diva, and her last few years of life. The diary chronicled every experiment Amshel forced onto her, and every rejection she forced onto her chevalier.

_Solomon deserves a happy ending._

The thin fabric wasn't too revealing, but Saya tossed on a silky robe and tied it snuggly around her waist, both to preserve her modestly (what was left of it, anyway, after the bath incident), and to keep her wet hair was dripping all over her back.

Saya walked into the kitchen to out her glass in the sink, and spotted Solomon through the large windows, standing on the balcony. He didn't seem to notice her observing him; he continued absentmindedly playing with the sleeve of his plain, long sleeve shirt, which looked all-too-casual on Solomon, paired with the jeans he had on.

"Did you enjoy the rest of your bath, honey?" He asked, turning towards her. His hair was almost dry and it waved playfully onto his eyelashes.

"It wasn't as fun after you left," Saya smirked. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him, spinning her into his chest. He caressed her shoulders down to her waist and began nibbling her ear tenderly.

The red queen suggested, "We could continue where we left off…"

Solomon lifted her up and placed her onto the stone edge of the balcony guardrail.

"Saya, sweetheart," he began, "I can't get the feeling out of my head that you're hiding something from me." His lips formed a little pout and his eyebrows were raised sympathetically. Saya sighed.

"I'm not hiding anything from you," She pressed. "Everything is fine, _believe me_."

Solomon didn't meet her eye, and looked right past her, guiltily. "You're not upset about…Haji? You two _were_ engaged when he left, and now…well, now you're with me."

When she didn't reply immediately, he swept her hair behind her ear and stared, pleading, into her eyes.

"You _are_ with me," he began, "aren't you, Saya?"

Shocked, she took grabbed both of his shoulders, trying to reassure him. "Of course I'm with you, Solomon! Haji is…still a sore spot, a little bit. But I don't love him anymore; not the way that I love you.

"I've never love anybody the way I love you. You're just going to have to believe me."

Solomon smiled and hugged her tightly, at the same time pulling her off her balcony seat. He started humming in her ear before lifting her up again into his arms contently.

"I have to say, it's quite a treat to see you in that," he chuckled, and the hand supporting her back fingered the tiny strap underneath her thin robe. "But you must be freezing."

"It is a chilly out here," she admitted.

"Then let's go inside," Solomon purred, "I'll warm you up."

Saya giggled as he raced inside and pressed her against the wall in the hallway outside of the bedroom. He pulled away, and she saw his eyes glisten a lustful red. He backed away from her slowly, and tugged on the tie of her robe, pulling her into the room slowly by it.

After removing her robe, and shoving her onto his cool, dark sheets, Solomon inspected the long chemise with long fingers.

"You know, you don't have to keep your clothes in the other room, darling,"

Startles by the sudden non-sequitur, Saya pulled back. "What?"

He was leaning over her body, and supported himself on his elbow. "Well, you won't be sleeping there anymore, will you? I mean, you could if you _wanted_, but I certainly don't want you to. You'll be with me."

"I hadn't really thought about it," she admitted. "But I don't want to clutter up your closet. You keep _buying me_ things—Lord knows I probably couldn't fit it all with the way you dress. I figure it could just work as a giant…wardrobe, maybe?"

"Sounds perfect to me, dear," Solomon purred, climbing another inch or so over her.

"You really do look so…tasty in that," he said. Saya couldn't help but begin pulling his shift off of him. As he pressed his body against hers', Solomon's gentle lips made their way to her neck, and Saya felt the pristine mixture of pin and pleasure as his fangs pierced her skin.

As his tongue licked a drop of blood that must have escaped from his mouth, and his lips traveled to her ear.

His voice was concerned, not coercive, when he whispered, "Are you sure it's okay?"

Saya kissed him and held his head closely to hers'.

"Yes, it's alright, it's perfect," she pleaded. "Everything is perfect; don't worry."

_Liar._

A/N: If you didn't like this chapter (but I really hope you did), never fear! The next chapter is much more action. Haji decides his plan of action against the renegade chevalier who has stolen the heart of his queen, and Solomon makes a shocking discovery. And boy, he isn't the only one…


	19. Pinch Me

A/N: Okay so…I said I would post every week or 2 weeks, but it seems to have become every 6 months or so. THIS WILL CHANGE I PROMISE! For anyone who usually reads these, you know I'm a law student, and for anyone who knows what a pain transferring schools is, you understand! I'

To be perfectly honest, I was going to stop the story, and offer my notes on the rest of it (I have it all outlined out) to anyone who was curious so they weren't left with a cliffhanger. However, a very…_enthusiastic_ reader calling me on my cruelty towards Haji inspired me to finish it. For the record, I don't hate Haji, but his unwillingness to admit his love throughout the series really irked me. Also, I just have a thing for blondes.

Also, I felt a really bad, considering not a day goes by that I haven't had at least one reader…I was truly touched by all of your dedication…

Please enjoy this chapter! It was a long time coming. BUT PLEASE IGNORE ANY TYPOS AND THE LIKE! My beta didn't have time to read this, and I didn't want to make you guys wait any longer.

For all of you Haji lovers…you're welcome. The current date in this timeline is now February 1st.

**Chapter 19: Pinch me**

- Proposition -

_Magic eye sugar rushing don't stop_

I must be dreaming  
Or we're onto something  
Hey just watcha make me  
For i don't fall in love lawlessly  
I must be dreaming  
Or pinch me to waking  
So undeniably yours  
As long as i'm losing it so completely

Euphoria i can't take any more of  
Yah i'm losing it

Wind blew Haji's long hair across his face, and he gazed silently at the cold, empty desert streets. With the breeze, came several grains of sand, which swept into his eyes. A normal human would have winced at the pain, but in a way, Haji relished it.

After all, it had been quite a while since he had been able to feel _anything_.

It had been months since he had seen his beloved queen—since he had willingly thrown her aside, and into the waiting arms of a man that, in many ways, could quite possibly be a better match for her than Haji used to think himself to be.

Biologically, Solomon _was_ her perfect match.

_Just be patient…_Haji calmed himself. _When the time is right, you will know when to make your move. If you should even make one._

Aoko had broken his confidence in his plans. Was he really doing the right thing letting Solomon have Saya? Of course he was—she needed to have the chance to live the way her body yearned to.

But his niece's words haunted him, and Haji began to wonder that, even if Saya didn't choose Solomon in the end, she might stay with him regardless, because her own chevalier had to careless tossed her away.

Perhaps his plan would change.

Sonomi still was not speaking to him, not since their argument regarding Haji's choice to leave Saya behind. Apart from their mission activities and strategy meetings, he rarely saw her at all. Even at the base of operations, the cheap hotel in that bustling Egyptian city, she either hid behind Aoko, or took shelter helping Kai prepare for battle.

Aoko was more kind to him. Perhaps it was because since she had told him off, and admitted that she wanted Saya to stay with Solomon, she had felt her mother's chevalier more and more, and was happy with the development of their relationship. Aoko must have felt Solomon very strongly, and known that his furthered relationship with Saya was hurting him, and probably felt it necessary to be nicer to him. But she was still barely on speaking terms, either.

And Kai was all too willing to act cold towards Saya's first chevalier—he was obviously none too pleased to see Haji's effect on his adoptive daughter, or sister.

The Red Shield was keeping a low profile for the next week or so, and they had sent Haji out to keep guard over the city. Watching people, without being seen by people, was Haji's specialty, after all. But watching the deserted, sandy roads by the main entrances and exits to the city reminded him off all the time he had spent alone while Saya was hibernating.

It was torture being reminded of those lonely times, especially knowing that Saya was with Solomon thanks to his own doing.

But it was worth it, he resolved. After all, they had just finished their second large attack against the Corpse Corps production facility. After a few weeks of staking out the place, spying on the individuals going in and out of the buildings, and stealing the data inside, they had been able to plot its destruction.

Luckily, the Red Shield had made it in time. No Corpse Corps had been shipped out, and many of the prototypes were not yet battle-ready.

Their first big move was simple, but the most risky. He, Lulu, and the twins had to infiltrate the building's main lab, and, using the information Julia had been able to decode and the formulas she had spent years perfecting, were able to contaminate the blueprint for every future corpse corps prototype.

"_That way," _Julia had said_, "if you ever need to fight them, and if our mission fails, they will no longer have the power of Diva's, or Saya's blood to use against you. They will still be unbelievably powerful, but their blows won't cause you to crystallize." _

It required a dangerous amount of time to change the computers in a way that would be unseen by both security and the scientists running the project, and entailed quite a bit of finesse and planning. But they managed it, thanks to Lulu's advanced thought-processing skills and agility, and Julia's training.

And they had just completed their second attack against the base. They were slowly destroying it from the inside—since the corpse corps were defective, all they had had to do was demolish the base itself. Kai and the twins had set up a myriad of bombs and explosives outside of the base; some outside the walls, some underground, but they were all non-detectable. And Louis had tracked down every person involved with these new, horrible experiments, and Haji, Sonomi, and Aoko had begun tracking them, and eliminating them.

David and the rest of their group had been worrying that they would be caught soon. Everything was going a little too well. But they had no choice but to continue on with their mission. Even if they were very close to being apprehended, the Red Shield knew from the start that their lives were on the line. And even if they were captured, they would be able to detonate all of the bombs remotely, and finish the mission before they themselves were…terminated.

The calming wind blew a familiar scent into Haji's face, and he stiffed at the new presence behind him. He addressed his guest without turning around.

"Aoko."

The blue twin walked slowly along the rooftop of the deserted building until she was standing next to her 'uncle'. Aoko watched him from the corner of her eye, though he did not show her the same courtesy. After a few moments, she peered ahead, into the sandy horizon, and neither of them spoke.

"It's been over three months, Haji," Aoko began, not breaking her gaze, "and the mission is almost over."

Haji took a moment before responding with a quiet, "yes."

"What are you going to do after it's over?"

He didn't answer immediately. "That is none of your concern. Right now, just focus of defeating the corpse corps."

"None of my concern?" Aoko was livid. "How can you even say that? We were a family! Me and my sister, Kai, you, and Saya. I won't take it back, what I said before—the way you acted still makes me sick, and I do hope that Saya is happy, but…what's going to happen next?"

"After the mission is over, we will continue our normal lives, as best we can." He turned towards her, his expression neutral, and slightly comforting. "We will try to live as best we can, under the circumstances."

"But what about Saya?"

He was obviously getting irritated with all of her questions, and almost interrupted her before she continued with,

"Are you really just going to leave her with Solomon without so much as a goodbye? You're just going to— to never see her again? Like it's that easy, Haji! You're her chevalier, aren't you? You are doing a pretty shitty job of looking out for her!"

"Aoko, I _strongly_ suggest you silence yourself before you say something stupid," Haji snapped. In an instant, he was directly in front of her, his hair whipping across the air between them so fast that for a moment, Aoko feared it would pierce her skin.

Anger seemed to emanate from the pores in Haji's flawless skin, but after staring at his visage in the dim light, the blue twin saw sadness, not fury, in his eyes.

And at that moment, she understood.

"You really think that this is what she wants, don't you?" Aoko said softly—she didn't ask it, it was a statement. "What is best for her…You really think that she would be better off with Solomon Goldsmith?"

"You can feel it now, can't you?" Haji's voice was clear and determined, but gentle. "Even you can feel her heart shifting, her mind wavering between her life with us, and her life with him. She has crossed over. Saya didn't realize it, but her mind was made up, the day that Solomon was changed.

"She never had a choice. As a chiropteran queen who was raised a human, her body's desire for him clashed with her human desire for normalcy—for _me_. Even if she had stayed with someone else for protection, even if I had stayed with her personally, I can't help but feel that she would have sensed him someday, and that small bit of her—the chiropteran part of her heart that could never have chosen me, would have searched for him forever."

Before Aoko could respond, he added with a shaky whisper, "It would have torn both of us apart."

Haji's eyes were still on her, but he was no longer looking at his niece. Aoko could feel his eyes glazing over, looking right through her, to what she was sure was a luxurious apartment, thousands of miles away. Were Solomon and Saya eating dinner, dancing together, maybe? As far away from his queen as he was, Aoko knew Haji could know.

"Go get her."

Haji's concentration broke at his niece's order, and he was now focused on the cold stare of the last blue queen.

"I've never thought I was human. Sonomi and I, we've always known we were monsters—creatures that drank blood, could create chevaliers, and could kill each other with the prick of a finger.

"You could never know Haji, what it is to feel the way that a chiropteran queen does. You are a chevalier, a _human_, who was given this life after accepting human mortality. Think about what it is to be a human; kindness, anger, humanity…Think of everything that Auntie Saya is."

Aoko smiled slightly, and touched Haji's cheek with the palm of her hand.

"I know what it is to be a chiropteran," she said, "and Saya is no chiropteran."

She turned her back to him and looked up at the sky wistfully. "If we all lived in a world without monsters, where people were only people, wouldn't you do something? I can tell you that Saya does love this Solomon guy, but who knows if it's just because they're bodies want to be together? My aunt, no matter what she is, would never let something as stupid as biology make her decisions for her."

Haji wanted to find the words, but couldn't. Perhaps he knew already that everything Aoko was saying was true—that Saya wouldn't allow her chiropteran heart control her, but he had refused to let her stay, and wasn't confident enough in their past together to believe that she would love him forever.

But Aoko was giving him the push that he needed. He had made a mistake, a terrible mistake brought on by his own cowardice and doubt. Haji knew that he had given her up, thrown her away to the one man waiting for his inevitable slip-up. But he was willing to spend the rest of his life fighting for her back, and making it up to her.

Saya would love him best, always. Perhaps there was still time before Solomon engulfed her completely, and made her forget who she was—the human that she was, and the human heart that she had chosen to live with.

"I will return quickly," Haji said. "Saya will not be with me. Things like this must be handled with care. To avoid attention and aggression, I have a plan. David and the others will understand. Please, be careful with the mission while I am gone."

After a swift nod from Aoko, he was gone.

Solomon returned to work the second week into January, but he began taking every weekend off, and then sometimes Fridays and Mondays, too. The air was dry and cold outside, and Saya and Solomon enjoyed the cozy atmosphere inside their upper-crust apartment, watching the winter fog float by, with an occasional cloud of rain, or the constant glisten of snow.

It was on one of those quiet winter mornings, that, while eating an ordered breakfast on their shiny kitchen table, Solomon snapped.

"Alright!" He shouted, standing up from the table so quickly that it shook violently, and Saya had to lunge for her glass before it toppled to the ground. "That's it—I've had enough of this!"

Saya lurched back instinctively, barely able to get out a shaky, "S-Solomon—"

"No, I can't take it anymore," he fumed. For a split second Saya didn't recognize him—his face was contorted in a mixture of rage and pain, and he had never raised his voice to her like this. He was leaning over her, but made no attempt to touch her.

Completely off guard, she could only try to make sense of him. "What on Earth—"

He leaned in closer, "You won't talk to me, you barely look at me—it's like I barely know you anymore! You're asleep when I leave in the morning, you barely speak to me when I get home; the only time I get to touch you is when we're in bed together. I can't stand it!"

The red queen could only look at his broken face for a moment before shifting her eyes to the living room, guilty.

How much time had passed since they got together? A little less than a month, she figured, and it had been some of the best time in her life. Still, as much as she tried to keep up with his honeymoon-like attitude, Saya felt herself drifting away from him.

Her mortality now hung heavy on her shoulders—trying to keep it a secret from Solomon had had the opposite effect she had planned: instead of allowing him the happily-ever-after he wanted with her, she found herself more depressed and despondent as each day passed, and he seemed to have mirrored her attitude.

Saya wasn't sure if she felt guilty for lying to him, or felt lonely, because she couldn't bring herself to share her secret with the one man she felt comfortable with.

On some nights, she could barely sleep at all; Solomon would either be sitting next to her in the bed, reading in the dark, or on the computer across the room, and every time she would turn over restlessly, he would try to comfort her or help her sleep, to no avail.

Other nights, she slept soundly—so soundly, in fact, that she slept right through the night and the entire next day, and sometimes until the evening of the day after that. Despite Solomon's pleadings, his every attempt to wake her failed miserably. Saya would open her eyes groggily, and he would greet her with an urgent smile, but as soon as he turned his back for a second to grab a glass of blood off of the bedside table, she would feel her eyes closing and her head would collapse back onto the overstuffed pillow, just as Solomon touched the cold mouth of the glass to her lips.

"Every time I try to talk to you, you dismiss me," he continued. "There's something wrong, isn't there? Don't insult my intelligence by attempting to placate me, Saya, please! If I did something wrong, then for the love of god, tell me!"

His face softened slightly.

"And if I didn't do something wrong, then…Well, I just don't know what to do! You can't leave me in the dark like this—switching your affections off like this! Are you depressed? Is that why you can't sleep, and why you stay in bed for days?"

"No, Solomon, that's not it!" Saya pushed, cutting him off before he could start again. "It isn't anything, so please! Just, stop worrying about it!"

His aqua eyes narrowed and he took an unsteady breath. It occurred to her then that Solomon wasn't using any of his charming tactics to get information out of her. He had one way or another, usually, of getting information out of her. It was harmless, nibbling behind her ear to get her to reveal if she really did want to grab the dress she'd seen in the window, or persuading her with his beautiful words to explain her deepest desires and most personal philosophies.

But now he seemed raw, almost ragged. Perhaps he had been trying to get her to reveal her mortal secret for the past month and she had been too jaded to notice.

"How can I not _worry_," he muttered, "when the only person I care to _worry_ about-_you_, can't even look at me? Something is _wrong!_"

For the first time during his tirade, Saya sustained her gaze on him. "Solomon…"

"You're hiding something from me." He said coldly. "And you have been since we started dating. And I absolutely will not stand for it anymore."

The red queen, caught off guard by him uttering the word 'dating', accidently let her guard down. Solomon had never officially labeled them; their love seemed too complicated to put under a title so simple, though it made sense, considering she was no longer having to _pretend_ to be his girlfriend.

"I can't…I just can't talk to you about it right now," she whispered, once again avoiding his gaze. "Just…not now."

She felt her chevalier's eyes on her, and when she finally looked up, Saya found Solomon watching her with what looked like suspicion, and the tiniest traces of fear.

"There is something that you cannot tell me…" He repeated aloud, almost hurt. Saya wanted to console him, but didn't have the heart to. "I understand. I don't want to let it go, but, I won't force it out of you. We haven't been together that long; some things take time.

"Just, please, promise me one thing."

She nodded. "Anything." She was eager to change the subject and pacify him.

Solomon took her by the shoulders and pulled her into him. When he retreated slightly, he looked at her deeply, his face grave.

"If it is about Haji, you'll tell me."

Taken aback, Saya stumbled back slightly. "Haji?" He had been the furthest thing from her mind.

"You would tell me if what you were worried about was about Haji, wouldn't you?" Solomon smiled a sort of nervous smile, and she couldn't decide whether he was trying to convince her or himself.

She answered honestly. "Yes, of course I would."

When Solomon breathed a sigh of relief, Saya couldn't help but ask, "Why would you assume it was about him?"

Her blonde lover looked around the room slowly, and then gave her a little smile. "I have no idea."

"Solomon?"

He shook his head. "He's just been on my mind lately for some reason. But I suppose that's understandable—you two were engaged to be married, and now you're with me."

Solomon smiled and leaned against the counter, regaining his playful, slightly cocky disposition.

"You know," he continued with a smirk, "it seems downright ungentlemanly of me, stealing you from him. Maybe we should have had a duel or something over your honor...I'm not looking forward to his reaction when he realizes I stole his fiancé without making some fuss or giving him some kind of notice."

Solomon looked shocked when she replied casually, "Oh, he knows. Don't worry."

"What?" He cocked his head in curiosity. "He knows?"

Saya nodded. "Solomon, he knew the minute I got on that plane that I wasn't coming back. He planned that this would happen. I told you before, when we went to Manhattan for the parade, that it was over. It took me a while to realize it, but that was him saying goodbye."

When Solomon didn't speak, she laughed slightly. "Plus, well, he is chevalier—he can probably tell, even from this far away, that I've moved on. Something this major, I'm sure he knows."

Watching her new chevalier resting his elbow on the counter, Saya desperately wanted him to say something. Talking about Haji felt so awkward now, and even though it was true that she had moved on, it was still quite a sore spot. As she picked up their dishes from the table and brought them to the sink, Solomon gently took her hand.

"Saya, I'm so sorry," he confessed quietly. "I'm sorry I snapped at you and gave you such a hard time-that was so horrible of me. Things are changing so quickly for you; I shouldn't let myself get so worked up about silly little things. I just…" He trailed off and leaned down to kiss her, and turned her so that she was facing him.

"It's just, after what happened with Haji, I want you to know that I would never put you through anything like that. I love you more than anything, darling. I want you to know that I always will."

Saya allowed her body to curl into him, and his arms warmly blanketed her. She reached up and ran her fingers through his flaxen hair, and pulled his face to hers. His lips curled into a smile as she kissed him.

Solomon leaned in closer and nibbled her ear teasingly.

"My love is immortal, just like you."

Saya held her tongue.

_Fuck._

_It was only a matter of time_, Saya thought grimly. Solomon's ashen face was contorted in pain-a mixture of fear, agony, and an inkling of betrayal and disbelief.

She felt rather detached. Or it was possible that the anguish had become so strong, that she had just tuned it out.

Solomon had tried to get out of having to go into work that day; their little tiff had made him feel dreadful, he said, and he attempted to make it up to her by trying to take her on a day trip back to Manhattan, but she wouldn't have it. He didn't seem to believe that she wasn't mad at him, but after she admitted a preference of diamonds over pearls, he seemed satisfied, and left late that morning with an order that she not plan anything for the evening.

She resisted the urge to ask what, exactly, would she plan on doing? It's not as though she knew anyone else…

But that wasn't exactly true. Saya did know a few other people in the city, so perhaps Solomon's command wasn't completely unjustified. Now that she and Solomon had developed a real relationship, he no longer felt guilty taking her out to dinner or to parties with the other members of his department. The men were as to be expected: friendly, but hardly talkative, not to her anyway; they adored Solomon, and his knowledge of language and politics awed them.

The wives of those businessmen, however, took a more instant liking to the young queen. Lead by Abram's outgoing wife, Catherine Michaels, the women welcomed her into their social group happily. In fact, they had actually begun contacting her outside of the boring company functions, and eagerly invited her to lunches and outings. It perplexed Saya to no end, but Solomon supported it.

'There can't be any harm in expanding your social circle a bit, darling,' Solomon had said once. 'After all, soon we'll have to leave or they'll notice I haven't been aging. Their nice ladies, you may as well have some fun with them while you have the chance.'

And Catherine was the most persistent. Since she had developed such a close relationship with Solomon, she seemed determined to find a friend in Saya as well. And the red queen did appreciate it—not only was it nice having a human close to her that wasn't trying to kill her, but Catherine also had the perfect extrovert personality to combat Saya's initial shyness.

After Solomon left, the red queen picked up a thick manuscript that she had left on coffee table, and snuggled into the couch with a pencil and a red pen.

In about two weeks, Saya had read through and edited 9 scripts for Catherine, who, on a lunch date with the young queen just days after she actually became involved with Solomon seriously, invited her to see a play she had picked up after it failed off-Broadway.

'It needed a lot of work,' she had admitted, a little embarrassed, 'but I'd love to see what you think. No one else will go with me, since the reviews were so bad when it first came out.'

The next day she had accompanied her new friend to a large theatre in Pittsfield, Massachusetts. It was an hour drive, and Catherine explained that she, once an aspiring Broadway actress, had found her love in producing, rather than acting, and now ran a company was famous in the theatre scene for taking on hopeless projects that almost always turned out fabulous.

However, after they arrived, and sat through a very long, convoluted show about a man who was haunted by the ghost of his sister, and goes mad trying to right the wrongs of her still-living husband, his brother-in-law, Catherine seemed less confident.

'I just don't know what's wrong with it!' she had exclaimed, burying her face in her hands. 'It's not the actors, and the plot seems so compelling! Why doesn't the script transfer well onto stage?'

Although Saya knew she was speaking mostly to herself, the red queen asked for a copy of the script to read over. Still too baffled about the show, Catherine handed her copy over to her without looking.

After only ten minutes, Saya had read through the script twice and identified several of the problems.

'Well, the first act is great, but it provides too much back-story—if we know her husband cheated on her this soon, the climax gets ruined. And there should be a scene between scene two and three of the second act, to add a little more depth to their mom or dad, or the fact that they're dead won't affect us; his reaction seemed out of place, didn't it? About half of the characters introduced in the third act should either be cut, or brought in earlier, because there isn't even any dialogue involving them until the scene with the cat, and it doesn't make any sense.

'I can see where the author was going with the Othello tie-in for the relationship the main characters' best friend, but it's _way_ too obvious. It should be more subtle, and would be a great twist for the ending.'

When Catherine stared at her in awe, Saya actually covered her mouth in horror. 'Oh my god, I'm sorry! I'm being way too forward—I didn't mean to just blurt that out, I just thought maybe that—'

But her new friend cut her off by grabbing her by the shoulders and squeezing her tight.

'That's perfect!' she'd cried, pulling away. 'That's so amazingly it! Did you write that down? Write it down, all of it! I can't believe you thought of that so quickly, oh thank you!'

And ever since then, Catherine had been handing her manuscript after manuscript of various plays she'd been at a loss on, and had even told some her other friends, who had begun giving her unfinished manuscripts of books, movies, and even poems that needed perfection.

As Saya crossed out a few lines of dialogue from Catherine's newest project, she smiled to herself about how her centuries alive reading everything from classical sonnets to modern trashy romance novels had paid off. Literally. Since she enjoyed it, Saya refused to let Catherine pay her, but her other friends paid her a handsome fee for editing their work.

But as encompassed as she was in her new pseudo-job, the young queen's eyes couldn't help but wander to the other piece of literature she had left on the coffee table.

Amshel's diary.

Solomon had made no mystery of his dislike of her reading it over so constantly, but he dismissed it after a time, once she assured him that it was not an unhealthy addiction to the information, it was a portal, a gateway to the sister she never truly known.

So she placed the script down and picked up the heavy journal, skimming though the pages, giving each article a cursory glance, until she arrived at the entry that always stopped her.

'_Mortality is a _bitch,' she thought sardonically.

These passages, these written words on a page were the wall between her and Solomon, and Saya still couldn't bring herself to talk to him about it. She leaned back and stared at the diary before her concentration was broken by a sharp chime ringing from her counter.

After Saya ran to her phone, she asked an out-of-breath, "Hello?"

"Hello sweetheart," Solomon sang from the other line. "They only needed me for some consultations today, so I got out a little early. I'll be home in 20. Will you be ready?"

"That depends," she answered slowly. "Ready for what?"

"For dinner, darling. There's this fabulous place above the Willshire building. They're famous for their French cuisine, and it's supposedly the most exclusive restaurant in New York."

"Dinner? Isn't it a little early?"

Solomon chuckled on the other line. "Maybe a _little_, but it's already four o'clock. Plus, by the time we get there, it will be plenty late."

Saya realized that she must have been reading longer than she thought, but still she was confused. "By the time we get _where?_"

"To dinner," he repeated. "I said it was exclusive so of course it isn't _here_. It's in Manhattan; I thought it was fitting. Now, go on and get dressed, I'll be home soom."

Before Saya could ask him what he meant by 'fitting', Solomon hung up with a quick, but sincere, 'I love you.'

She sighed and shrugged, smiling slightly. After all, Solomon's impulsiveness was one of the things she most adored about him. His random acts of love were what made her fall for him in the first place.

Saya decided to just leave the journal on the table (she had brought it with her as she ran to her phone, and was too lazy to move it again), and rushed into her room excitedly to start getting ready.

Solomon was coming through the door in a matter of minutes, and seemed happy that she was sitting on their shared bathroom counter to do her makeup. Slowly but steadily, she had begun exclusively using her old room as simply a closet. It felt foreign to her now, somehow cold and alone.

They had moved her dresser in, though, so as to have an extra mirror, and as Saya was fluffing up her hair one last time, Solomon snuck up behind her. As he wrapped his arms around her, Saya felt the tiny chill of cold metal being laid across her neck.

At first, she felt the necklace with her fingers, then turned back to look at Solomon. He merely smiled, and pointed to the mirror, with his hands contently on her waist.

When she did look, Saya had trouble getting the words out.

"S-Solomon," she stammered, "it's beautiful."

Her golden chevalier leaned over her and rested his chin in the crook of her neck. "I acted horribly this morning, Saya. I couldn't stop thinking about it all day, and I'm so sorry. Please, forgive me."

She whipped around, saying, "Solomon, of course I forgive you! It really isn't a big deal—I mean, it's only natural that you get a little upset. But seriously…you don't have you give me presents every time we have a fight."

She fingered the elegant necklace gently. Two rows of glittering white diamonds hung close to her neck, and tiny loops of smaller diamonds fell below them onto her collarbone, eventually tapering to a single point, where a large, sparkling teardrop dangled.

"It's vintage Tiffany," Solomon smiled, ignoring her modest protestation and kissing her cheek. "And it is merely a physical manifestation on my apology, and a token of my love. One of many more to come."

Instead of chastising him, Saya sighed and smiled. If Solomon had his way, she would eat, sleep, and breathe the richness he provided, never lifting a finger or letting an indulgence go unfulfilled. But Saya knew that is why their relationship dynamic worked so well—his spontaneity and spoilage contrasted perfectly and complimented her modesty and middle-class Okinawan upbringing.

"Since you're almost done, I'll get us something to drink before we go." Solomon had changed so fast from his work clothes that by the time Saya had emerged from the bathroom, he was just straightening his grey tie, which contrasted perfectly with his burgundy shirt, and crisp black suit. He seemed to enjoy dark suits for work, but normally saved the elegant, more expensive black suits for when they were alone. Though, after she prodded him enough times, he did begin walking around their apartment in jeans; once or twice he even wore his white v-neck undershirts, but he didn't seem to enjoy it as much as she did.

Just as she was grabbing her purse, she heard a crash coming from the kitchen. Perhaps it was because Saya knew that Solomon was much too poised to ever drop anything, because instantly she knew something was not right, and a chill ran up her spine. The air seemed heavier somehow, and Saya stopped dead in her tracks the moment the entered the kitchen.

The blood and glass glittering on the floor created a field or ruby crystals across the tile. Solomon stood perfectly still, somehow both rigid and unstable, in front of the kitchen table with his back to her. His hands, which hung at his sides, twitched slightly.

Regret, shame, and the tiniest bit of fear pooled in Saya's stomach as she stepped carefully into the kitchen, her heals crunching on the glass. Solomon turned slowly, and his face still showed the excitement it did minutes ago, but it was slowly being consumed by reality.

His voice was shaky. "You…you left it open..."

"Solomon…"

Suddenly Saya broke into a sprint for the front door, but Solomon cut her off before she took two steps out of the kitchen. Solomon was not a dangerous man, but Saya knew from experience that a chiropteran, herself and her chevalier included, were not themselves when they were angry.

Or scared.

"Is this it, then?" He asked quietly, his softness in his voice was a sharp contrast to the intensity in the air, and Saya took a step back. "This is what you couldn't tell me?"

Saya looked at the ground, unable to answer. This seemed to be the confirmation that Solomon needed.

His voice broke as he grabbed her wrist. "How?" He asked forcefully. "How could you not tell me that you're…that you are…" He seemed unable to bring himself to finish that thought. "After everything that's happened—how could you keep this from me?"

Saya briefly cursed her absent-mindedness before accepting the scene in front of her. "I thought you knew," she responded honestly, but her voice lost its confidence when she continued. "And when I realized you didn't, I just couldn't."

"You couldn't bring yourself to tell me that the love of my life is dying?" He fumed, "After our first night together, _this _was what was on your mind—you knew that you couldn't even get pregnant? Oh my God…we'll never have children."

Solomon seemed uneasy on his feet, but when Saya attempted to help his head from spinning, he merely tugged at her wrist. He was staring her with a dazed expression, and she knew he was picturing the future he had imagined, and couldn't bring himself to face that it would never happen.

"I can't believe you knew, that you really kept this…" He began softly, but his voice soon rose to a roar. "After everything, after I finally have you, you don't tell me! You know how much you mean to me, and you still kept it from me!"

"It's because I mean so much to you!" Saya defended, shouting back slightly. "How could I tell you that my life is ending sooner than we thought? I knew before we started…being together, and then once we were, you were so happy! I couldn't ruin that for you!"

He began muttering incredulously to himself, but when Saya winced at the pressure he was putting on her wrist, he jumped back, horrified as though he had broken her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, shaking his head. "I just, I can't believe what it says—after all of the times I read through it, I never even…and you knew and I didn't; I never even put it together. It never occurred to me at all."

"Solomon-" Saya began, but was caught off guard when a single tear fell down Solomon's cheek and on to the floor. He seemed surprised as well, and blinked quickly a few times before touching his cheek with his fingers.

"Jesus Christ…" he muttered, before taking a couple of long, deep breathes.

"It's not—it's not that I'm _mad_," he began, still a little shaky. But he gave her a disapproving, slightly spiteful glare before continuing. "Well, I am a _little_ mad," he spat. "What upsets me most, though—it isn't that you kept this from me; it's that my life_ isn't_ half over. Not even close.

"How am I supposed to live without you…? Whether it's two hundred years, or a thousand years down the road—the thought of my life going on after yours ended, it's sickening.

"I thought…that we could be together forever."

Saya reached out to him, and he accepted her hand and drew her to him. He rested his head in her hair, and when they both seemed to have calmed down, she tried to reassure him.

"Solomon, who knows when this could be? I mean, it was just a hypothesis. True, my body is a little weaker, but I am sure I will live for ages this way.

"Besides, you lived just fine when I was in Okinawa, after we had both woken up. You told me yourself—you were content to live that way."

He shook his head and pulled her away to look at her. "No, you don't understand. The only reason I was able to stay sane was because I could feel you out there somewhere, and I knew I could protect you from afar. Somewhere, your heart was beating, even if it wasn't for me. But, to imagine a world without you in it at all…that is truly hell."

Solomon stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. "You are truly my angel."

"I love you, Solomon," Saya confessed happily. "I really do. I always will. Isn't that enough?"

He stared at her for a moment before smiling, and spun her around before drawing her close once again.

"Yes, darling, it is," he laughed freely. "My sweet, optimistic, queen—you are truly wonderful."

He kissed her deeply before withdrawing, this time with a more serious look on his face. Solomon's eyes searched her face before he knelt down, and kissed her hand.

"Until your heart stops beating," he said, "I will never stop loving you. No matter what happens, no matter when that day comes, I'll be here, just for you."

It took Saya a minute to realize that this time it was her who was crying, and when Solomon noticed, he chuckled a sympathetic laugh and picked her up, sitting her down on the counter top.

"Oh, my baby," he cooed as he dried her tears with the cuff of his shirt. He laughed a little. "Your mascara is all runny; go and fix it up while I clean up this mess, hm? I think we could both use a nice glass before we go."

Saya nodded, but as she prepared to hop down, Solomon caught her legs and tsk'd, motioning to the ground, which still had glass on it. Her chevalier scooped her up in his arms before putting her down safely in the carpeted hallway, and she went to fix her make-up while Solomon fixed the other room, humming a simple tune as he did so.

Briefly, Saya wondered why Solomon didn't take the news harder—she'd expected a more dramatic scene. Granted, she was grateful, but she couldn't help but speculate as to why he didn't take it so hard. Perhaps it was because he had known it, once, but hadn't put it together. Maybe he blamed himself, for not telling her first.

But regardless, the truth was out, and Saya felt a huge weight lifted. Solomon was certainly shaken, but apart from that, everything seemed as though it was back to normal. She felt her chevalier's hands grab her waist when she was done fixing her make-up, and Solomon spun her around before handing her the nutritious drink.

In the elevator down, Solomon laughed, and Saya inquired as to why.

"I just remember how it was when you first came to stay with me," he chuckled, tightening his protective hold on her shoulder. "We would go up and down this elevator, and you would just stare awkwardly down at the floor and get all rigid whenever I would touch you."

Saya looked up at him and smiled, and he smirked as he pulled her out of the opening doors just roughly enough to make her gasp in surprise.

"But now I get to touch you all I want," he stated both happily and slightly possessively. "No more waltzing around me in those short little outfits and expecting no reaction from me, no more playing dumb about your affections."

He flicked her nose quickly and winked. "I'm going to make an honest woman out of you, Saya-My little minx."

Solomon had 5 cars, not including the red Rolls Royce that Saya had taken for herself (it was the one expensive thing that she had never been reluctant to take). He normally took his white Porsche to work, and it seemed to be his normal ride, and with her he did enjoy the Ferrari and the jaguar. But he did have a large, luxury Bentley that he used for travel, and an Aston Martin that he had only driven once, one month ago, when they went to the New Years Eve party that changed their lives forever.

As the sun was setting over the building as they drove out of town in that same Aston Martin, Saya was going to ask him why he didn't drive the amazing car more often, but he sighed heavily, and pursed his lips.

"Solomon?"

"Angel, you were really just going to let me find out on my own?" His voice was gentle, as though there was no anger at all. Saya waited a moment before answering.

"I didn't have the heart to tell you, Solomon." She sighed. "Even after I figured out that you didn't know, it didn't seem like a big deal, since I didn't think anything would develop between us, but when it did, I just didn't know how to…I'm sorry."

Solomon just stared ahead.

"I'm sorry, too. It must have been a horrible burden to bear, all alone."

They were quiet for a while, the only sound being the soft contemporary music that Solomon constantly had playing. He squeezed her hand reassuringly, and Saya knew that they both took solace in that tiny contact.

"I'll understand, you know," she finally built up the courage to say. "I'll understand if it changes things. We've never talked about children. I mean, I don't know if you were expecting any someday or if you even liked them, but I could understand if, before you got too invested, you wanted to—"

Solomon cut her off frantically, "Saya, please stop that! What kind of man do you take me for? To leave you or think less of you just because we can't have children. _Honestly_, you know me better than that."

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "I won't lie to you, I have thought about what it would be like to have children with you; to have our own little girls. Even since I met you I wondered what they would look like. But it isn't as though I was expecting them—children were never one of the reasons I fell in love with you. I thought that someday, maybe, we would, but please don't ever think that something so miniscule would get between us."

Solomon brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed it sweetly.

"Plus, that certainly has it's advantages. Now I can have you all to myself for the rest of our years together. Even if it was our own daughters, I would have a horrible time sharing you. I can barely stand going to work in the morning; imagine having to share your affection and time with two _babies!_ I'm perfectly happy this way."

Saya stared down at her knees, but was smiling shyly. "Thank you, Solomon."

He didn't say much after that. In Saya's opinion, he looked deep in thought about something, and she wondered if perhaps he was musing to himself about the future that they would never have, with a house far away, big enough for two tiny chiropteran queens to grow up in.

And Solomon would be an amazing father. He seemed to have a knack for children. Once, in a crowded department store, Solomon became the savior of a very stressed, tired-looking young mother by quieting her screaming infant with a cradle in his arms, and a smile gracing his lips. He cooed at the baby slightly and it giggled at his charms. Both Saya, and the mother were amazed, and as Solomon handed the baby back to the woman, she smiled and whispered to Saya,

"Oh, honey, he is a _keeper!"_

He would probably spoil their daughters, but it wasn't a bad thing, although Saya realized she would probably spoil them quite a bit herself. Solomon would love taking care of everything, she knew—making sure she slept soundly while he comforted their screaming babies, buying them everything they would need to care for the children, even decorating their daughters nursery seemed to suit him perfectly.

Saya looked over at her pensive chevalier, and could picture him rocking back in forth in a large chair, two angelic princesses in his arms, singing softly to soothe them into slumber, before handing one off to her so they could tuck their daughters in.

She found herself surprisingly sad, imagining it.

"You're beautiful," he said, smiling over at her. "I love taking these long drives with you, all dressed up. It's one of my greatest pleasures, you know."

Saya's own smile got wider, and she turned her head to look at him. "Mine, too, Solomon. I could drive like this you forever."

Solomon's face looked surprising serious for a moment.

"Will you?"

Saya merely laughed, and kissed his hand. Surely he knew, by now, exactly how serious about him she was, and that this life—taking long drives and living in luxury, was something she was quickly becoming happily accustomed to.

He looked happy with himself. "We're almost there. We're already in Manhattan. The restaurant is at the top of that building right over there."

Solomon pointed over the dashboard towards the dark horizon, and Saya instantly knew which building he was talking about. It was a giant skyscraper, with what looked like a needle pointing towards the sky on the top. Just the below the needle, was a large, brightly lit circular segment that, if Saya's eyes were not playing tricks on her, was moving.

"Solomon, is that building-"

He cut her off with a chuckle, "rotating? Yes, it's styled after the Top of the World restaurant in Las Vegas. It's the only one on this coast—it's absolutely beautiful."

As they drove up to the curb, Saya asked, "Have you been here before?"

Solomon took a moment to answer, and looked uncomfortable. "Well, I stepped inside it once, a year or two ago, for a company thing. I didn't stay long. I made it just past the foyer before I left."

"A company thing? Like a dinner or drinks? Seems awfully swanky, even for you guys."

Solomon cleared his throat as he shifted to park in front of the valet. "Technically it wasn't with the men or women from work. It was a, well, a special assignment."

When Solomon handed his keys to a uniformed valet at the base of the building, Saya cocked her head and gave him a questioning glance.

"What kind of 'special assignment'?"

Solomon pursed his lips and ran his hand through his hair, and Saya recognized it as his look of embarrassment. He took hold of her hand, but when she didn't respond to it eagerly, he looked at his queen's skeptical face and explained.

"There was an agent about two years ago who was rather reluctant to hand over a few confidential reports," He elaborated. "They asked me to meet the agent here to _persuade _the papers from them, and we agreed to meet here."

Saya was more curious that jealous, though she was increasingly becoming the latter. The thought of Solomon using his charms to sway some sexy agent made her livid, though slightly amused. If Solomon had told her this story before they had become a couple, she would have found the idea of her chevalier using his good looks (which he often expressed hatred for) for work humorous, but now that he was hers, it was rather…unsettling.

"So?" Saya urged.

Solomon shrugged and was obviously trying to steer the conversation in another direction. "Well I got them. I mean, it was my job, and I got them."

"What was she like?" She asked, trying not to sound as angry as she suddenly felt. "What did you have to do? Did you take her for dinner? Drinks? What about…after?"

It wasn't often that Saya found Solomon Goldsmith look genuinely irritated or testy, but the memory seemed to bring up something in him that made him look both embarrassed and annoyed.

"Well, _he_ wasn't very hard to persuade."

Saya looked up at Solomon, who was pursing his lips and looking away.

"He? What do you mean he?"

Solomon nodded to a man at the front desk, and they went into a hallway where he led her to single, private elevator. Once they were alone, he continued.

"The agent was a man," Solomon said curtly.

Saya didn't understand. "But then why would they send you? You're charming and everything, but wouldn't they want to send someone to seduce him or something?"

When she looked up she saw Solomon staring at her obviously. "Yes. They _did_ send someone they wanted to seduce him. _Me_. Sweetheart, I told you that they thought I made you up before the party, and I wasn't lying. But I certainly didn't need to seduce him or anything—I doubt I was his type. I swear, the entire department was convinced that I was gay before they met you and realized how in love with you I was!"

It took the queen a moment to respond. "They thought….that you were…gay? And they sent you to seduce…another man?"

Solomon looked extremely uncomfortable. "Yes."

Suddenly more at ease, she was curious. "So was he cute?"

"I didn't do it!" He shouted in defense, shaken, as though a chill had shot down his spine. Saya laughed at his embarrassment. "Being chiropteran has its advantages, as I'm sure you know—we have to be able to charm and entrance people well enough to get their blood, and it works for less sinister purposes, as well. I was in the bar with him for ten minutes before I got the papers and left, without even touching him."

She thought for a minute. "Well, that's good, I guess. But you said that you told people about us a while ago, before you even knew I was coming to stay with you. Remember? Why didn't you show them a picture or get a girl to pretend to be your girlfriend? I'm sure it wouldn't be hard to find a lady to go out with you."

Solomon looked down at her thoughtfully, and let go of her hand in favor of her waist. He pulled her in front of him and wrapped his arms around her, breathing her in.

"I didn't have the heart to," he said quietly. "I suppose I should have, if I really wanted them to believe that I really was in a relationship. But I couldn't. Every time I spoke about my girlfriend and lover, I was talking about you-the life we could have had, the places I wanted to take you to and things I wanted to do for you. I couldn't just pick someone else, even for pretend. I'd rather they think I'm homosexual than feign affection for someone else."

"Solomon…"

He chuckled, and let her slip out of his grasp to look up at him.

"Honestly, it was pathetic. In Amshel's records, I found a few pictures of you. There was one from you at the zoo, but it was with Haji…There was one from a security camera outside a building a few months before I joined your side during the war. There was this really adorable photo of you in your school uniform from 2006."

"Really? I've never seen that one."

"Oh yes it was so cute!" He laughed as the elevator opened. "You were smiling with your little short hair and that big red bow on your uniform. I almost died when I found it, looking through Amshel's stuff when I woke up."

"Well where is it?"

Solomon scoffed. "Like I would just leave it around once I knew you were coming to stay with me. I looked at that picture and all of those things reminding me of you every day, constantly. I didn't want you thinking I was some insane stalker, so I put them away."

"Away?" Saya asked. There was no room or place in the apartment that she hadn't seen, she knew.

"I have a house in Maine," he said. "I'm a minimalist, but I'm very sentimental. There are a lot of things from the past there. Amshel's things, Nathan's, Karl's, even James'—Everything from the century of war and love, is horded up in the attic of my mansion in Maine."

Solomon and Saya were in a dimly lit hallway and she looked at him curiously. He just smiled knowingly and wrapped his arm around her waist. Before Saya could question the strange location, she noticed the lights growing brighter and brighter the closer the got to the end of the hall, and the plush carpeting and rich scent showed her they were indeed at the right place.

Still, Solomon explained. "This place is one of the best-kept secrets of New York. It's hard to get reservations, but it's even harder to find out about it in the first place. It's popularity is growing rapidly, but it's still incredibly underground."

As they approached golden double doors at the end of the hallway, Saya felt the atmosphere change suddenly, and she was engulfed in the fine air that she had always associated with Solomon and his lifestyle. The doors swung inwardly open automatically, and Solomon bowed slightly, allowing her to enter first.

The lights were dim, but the ceiling was covered with such copious amounts of crystal chandeliers, that the candlelight from the tables reflected all over the walls of the circular room, which were painted various shades of burgundy and gold. The floor plan was creative, with several varying levels of height spread around the room. A jazz quartet stood on the main level, in their own area not too close to the patrons, playing quietly a soft, jazzy tune.

Solomon led her to the host, who was standing off to the side behind a small podium. He smiled slightly at them.

"Mr. Rosdale?" He asked, after looking at Saya, and then back at Solomon.

"Indeed," Solomon replied. He and the host seemed to share a moment of friendly understanding, but Saya didn't bother questioning it.

Their host held two menus and nodded. "We have your table prepared, sir."

While they were led to their table, Solomon had his hand on the small of her back, guiding her body until they were seated. Their table was on the main level, and although it was practically in the middle of the room, it had an amazing view of the glittering city below.

Once they were alone, Saya stared around the room and stopped at Solomon, whose gaze was fixated on her.

"Solomon," she began, still amazed at their current surrounding. Her new chevalier had exposed her to several dazzling sights in the past few months, but this was unlike anything she had ever experienced. "This place is amazing."

Solomon smiled, but said nothing. Suddenly Saya wondered to herself, exactly how many times in the past few months had she said that?

How often had she commented on the beauty and wonders that she was exposed to since she began staying with Solomon? Her golden chevalier, as dazzling and warm and bright as the sun, had shown her things she had never dreamed of. On his balcony, so many years ago, he promised her these things in the midst of a war that she had begun against his queen.

She had thought they were empty promises, at first, spoken out of lust and desperation, but the more he spoke, the more Saya realized his words came truly from his heart. He had abandoned everything, _everything_, for her, and she had turned him down, and rejected him.

Saya had almost wanted to feel bad about it, but deep down, she knew she had made the right choice, then. Had Solomon joined them, he would have interfered with their plans. True, their mission would have benefited from his information on Diva, and the manpower of another chevalier, but his affection for her (and what she was sure would have been her growing affection to him, as well), would have torn apart the very delicate bonds between schiff, human, and chiropteran that were already there.

What was important was that the war was over, and that this time, she had accepted his offer to let him show her the world.

Haji, as mysterious and lovely as the moon, brought her only the past. Compared to her new experiences with Solomon, he was cold, and detached. Ironically, her golden chevalier owed a lot to the former, as Haji had taught her that the future was worth embracing, and without that, she would not be the woman Solomon had to share it with.

Solomon rarely ate meat when they went out. He said that it had a very disappointing taste—that after ingesting blood orally for so many years, even the tenderest cuts were terribly dry and unappealing. But he did order a steak at this particular meal, just like Saya did, but they both made sure that their meat was _particularly_ rare.

"What's wrong?" Solomon asked, breaking the silence that Saya hadn't realized they had lapsed into. His voice wasn't alarmed, but he seemed a tad worried.

Shaking several trains of thought out of her head, Saya replied, "I was just thinking."

Solomon laughed lightly, "Yes, you do an awful lot of that. Anything in particular this time?"

Saya smiled. "It's weird actually. You normally sit right next to me at restaurants, but now you're sitting across from me."

Solomon cocked his head and stared at her a moment before responded. "I like looking at you," he said. "I like observing you and watching you. You are beautiful, and fascinating. When you first came to stay with me, I always tried to sit across from you, or at an angle so it wouldn't be so obvious; I mean, sitting next to you, I'd have to crane my neck down and you would had noticed me always gawking at you."

"But, the last time we were here in Manhattan, and during Christmas, you didn't mind," She said, and chuckled, "in fact, you were all over me!"

Solomon traced the fingers of her hand that gripped her wine glass and smirked at her.

"Well, can you blame me? I watch you like a hawk, praying that you have some tiny amount of affection for me, and you not only allow me into your bed and accept my blood, but renounce your engagement to my rival for your heart.

"At that point, honestly, I decided not to hold back. No matter what your affections towards me were, I was going to do whatever it took to make you mine."

Before Saya could reply, their waiter came with their food, and he silently refilled their wine glasses before disappearing. Solomon watched him as he went, but Saya didn't comment.

Solomon was mid-chew when she observed, "You know, you've been drinking chardonnay a lot more, recently. Have you had a craving for white?"

He swallowed. "You like wine, I like wine. You prefer white, so I prefer white. Merlot is a small price to pay to make you comfortable, don't you agree?"

"You stopped drinking red wine just because I said that?" She was a little surprised, but Solomon seemed surprised that _she_ was.

"Sometimes I wonder," He said thoughtfully, "if you actually realize that I would anything for you. There is nothing too small, or too big. For instance, if you had actually hated that necklace, and wanted it in blue sapphires or encrusted with pearls, I would have raced back to the store without a second thought, and done everything in my power to make it perfect for you."

Saya fingered the new necklace currently draped along her collarbone, and Solomon quietly murmured, as if to himself, "to make life perfect for you."

He kissed her hand gently, and as she finished the last bite on her plate, he rose, and smoothly lifted her from her seat with an elegant tug at her hand.

"You will dance this one dance with me, won't you, darling?"

She nodded and blushed, but only when Solomon began leading did she recognize the music playing around them and the few other couples dancing.

"Solomon," she whispered happily into his collarbone, "this is…"

"_Blue Danube,_" He finished, before twirling her on the small dance-floor.

"Our first dance," Saya recalled dreamily.

"I'll never forget seeing you in that pink party dress, hiding in the corner like an innocent little wallflower, or how your cheeks lit up when we danced, or how sad I was when I was forced to leave the only girl to touch my heart in ages."

Saya laughed quietly. "I can't believe you remembered."

Solomon whispered back before kissing her forehead. "I can't believe you thought I wouldn't. I'll never forget that night. It changed me forever."

She exhaled happily. "Pinch me," she sighed. "This night has been so wonderful, it's like a dream."

The red queen wished that the song would go on forever, and it did seem to continue for quite a while. It was a little slower than the version playing the ball in Lycee, but it really did bring her back to that night, when she was scanning the room for men who could be the phantom, when Solomon, the charming gentleman, walked in. Honestly, she knew instantly he wasn't the phantom—the phantom had been nowhere that pretty.

She smiled and thanked her inner warrior at that moment for her one-mindedness. Had she not been on a mission, she would have been one of the other girls gossiping and fawning over his good looks, and she never would have caught his attention long enough to peek his chevalier interest.

When she opened her eyes, Saya saw that the dance floor was all but deserted, save for themselves, and that most of the restaurant was kindly watching the young couple still dancing.

"Solomon," she whispered. "Everyone's staring at us."

He chuckled under his breath and dipped her. "I'd imagine you would be quite used to it by now. You're always saying that I turn heads, but it's really you that attract people; you're much more beautiful than you realize."

She scoffed like she always did, but it didn't help the blush that reddened her cheeks whenever Solomon complimented her, which was often.

"Thank you, Solomon," Saya said earnestly. "I'm having such a lovely time. I only wish this night could last forever."

Solomon uncharacteristically pulled her away from his chest, and, still keeping time with the music, he looked at her very seriously for a long moment.

"I could, you know, Saya," he began. They were close once again, but still just far away enough to stare directly at each other.

"This moment could last forever. The happiness we have established, and the love we have for each other, can last forever. Do you want it to? Would you like to live this way forever?"

"Yes," Saya responded, without a second thought. Her previous life, the war and everything leading up to her fateful stay in New York flashed before her, and she knew this was where she was supposed to be. Her answer was soft, she knew, but she was aware that Solomon could hear the sincerity.

The red queen was suddenly aware that they were no longer swaying to the gentle lull of the band, and that music had ceased, and that the already dim lights had grown dimmer still, and the soft light was only on them.

"Then marry me."

Taken aback, Saya staggered, but Solomon smiled and helped her regain her balance by gently tugging at her left hand as he knelt down on one knee. As Saya gasped into her remaining hand, while Solomon used his to gracefully pull out a velvet box from his coat pocket.

"Please," he pleaded, letting go of her hand just long enough to get the box open, revealing a diamond ring so astounding that she kept her eyes on him just to avoid being floored by it.

"Marry me, darling, please. Years ago, I proposed to here right here in this city, and I have never stopped wishing I would get a chance to again.

"This time, my angel, please, give me the honor of your hand. Be my bride, and I promise, I will never let you go."

"Solomon…" Saya's mouth seemed unable to say anything else, and she was certain that if Solomon hadn't been holding her hand, she would have fallen right through the floor.

Everything she could have dreamed of was right in front of her. Soon, her family and loved ones would return, and the chiropteran threat would be finished forever, with her nieces carrying on the memory of her beloved sister. There was a man who was offering her his heart, along with everything else he possessed, and the world itself seemed to want them together. It seemed that everything was finally coming together, and her dreams were finally becoming reality.

Although part of her was not sure if she deserved such happiness, Saya could not help herself from feeling so happy that tears soon clouded her vision.

"I love you more than anything in this world," Solomon sang. "We were _made_ for each other, and I will spend the rest of our lives proving it to you."

He kissed her hand, and asked one final time, in a whisper only loud enough for them to hear.

"Marry me, Saya. Please, marry me."

As she nodded feverishly, Saya saw through her tears the image of Solomon beaming.

"Yes, I will," She answered. Her voice was shaky, from a mixture of excitement and tearful joy. "Yes, Solomon, I will marry you, I accept."

As soon as she finished speaking, Solomon slid the ring onto her finger. She was only able to admire it for a moment before Solomon scooped her up in his arms and spun her around happily. The tables all throughout the restaurant applauded for the new couple, and Solomon kissed her passionately before leading her back to their table, which was cleared, save for red candles glittering on top of it.

This time, Solomon sat directly beside her.

Still jittery, Saya exclaimed, "I…I can't believe it!"

Solomon's attitude mirrored hers, and she wondered if this was the first time since the Halloween party that she had seen him completely excited, and without any of his normal composure.

"I know!" he replied, laughing, "My God, you're going to marry me!"

"I'm going to marry you!"

They both laughed out of disbelief and happiness. After Solomon had kissed her again, longer this time at the privacy of their table, he stared at her with a wide smile.

"What the hell are we still doing here? Let's go out and celebrate!"

And they did. They both practically ran out of the restaurant, and when Saya questioned the matter of the check, her new fiancé reassured her, explaining that he had paid for everything ahead of time. As soon as they we in the car, they sped all throughout Manhattan, stopping at bars and clubs, even parks—anything that peaked their interest in their euphoric state.

It was past midnight when they began their trek home, but Saya found that she could barely keep her hands off of her golden chevalier. Every new town they passed, she would demand he stop so she could get her hands on him, and then it was every few exits, and then soon it was every few miles that Saya pounced onto her lover. Solomon was more than happy to stop the car at a moments notice, and more than a few occasions had yanked her into a secluded room or area, even an alley, himself, to enjoy the privileges of his fiancée.

Solomon had brought them back to the apartment through the balcony, parking his car in the garage and jumping through the air with Saya in his arms. Saya had told him that she loved the feeling of the freedom that the wind flowing through her hair gave her, and he seemed to have taken every opportunity to do it.

Although she was exhausted—her voice hoarse from laughing and talking and yelling her engagement to outgoing club and bar patrons, Saya didn't object when Solomon began undressing her as soon as they stepped into the apartment.

In the bedroom, she attempted to take of her glittering necklace, but Solomon pushed her harder into the mattress.

"Don't," he commanded, smiling. "Leave it on. Seeing you in diamonds is something you rarely let me see."

After they were both finally spent, Saya was able to peek at the clock as she rolled over onto Solomon's chiseled chest. It said that it was just past 3 in the morning, but after the events of the night, she felt as though it had to be much later than that.

"Do you like it?" Solomon asked suddenly. He was peering down at Saya now, and raised himself up so that he was resting on his elbow.

"Huh?"

"The ring," he clarified. "Do you like it? I hope you do."

"Oh," Saya replied, immediately looking at the large stones now gracing her fingers. "Yes, I love it!"

She really did. It was large, far bigger that anything Saya would have picked out herself, but Solomon's taste was something she had come to love about him. It was gold, and looked to be made of three bands put together. The main stone was an enormous round diamond, surrounded by a square made of smaller diamonds. Next to it were two more large, round diamonds, one on either side, while the rest of the three rings were covered with stones that looked like pebbles by comparison.

"I really am glad you like it," he smiled, nuzzling her neck. "I was afraid you'd want something a little more toned-down."

Saya was honest. "It's a little showy for me, but I really love it. It's flashy, just like you."

While she laughed at her little joke, Solomon smirked and took it in stride. He picked up her hand and examined the ring.

"I had it custom made," he explained, but he didn't appear to be bragging as much as just remembering. "I had the design in my head ever since I first proposed to you years ago, but I altered it, to make it completely different from the one Haji gave you."

Saya couldn't deny that it did seem the polar opposite of something Haji would give her. The modest stones on the previous engagement ring were nothing compared to the fortune now contently resting on her hand.

"This one is prettier, don't you think?" He asked suddenly. She knew he attempted to appear nonchalant, but Saya could hear the slight insecurity in his voice.

"I do," she admitted, yawning. "I like this one more. I think it suits us perfectly."

Solomon smiled and kissed her, before pulling the covers over them and playing with the hair covering Saya's face.

"It's been a long day," he whispered into her ear. "Get some sleep, so we can continue _celebrating_ tomorrow."

Saya giggled as Solomon's arm slid under the covers and stroked her body slowly. His body was soon all around her, surrounding her person with the warmth that only a true chevalier was able to provide. But, just as she was drifting off to sleep, Solomon propped himself up on his elbow and gently turned her face to look at his.

"But, sweetheart," he began, somehow sounding both seductive and almost nervous at the same time. "Can I ask you one thing before we call it a night?"

"Of course," she answered, trying not to yawn again. "What is it?"

Solomon leaned over her, and Saya thought she could hear a soft purr coming from the back of his throat. His mouth spread into a smile, and his rarely-seen fangs extended, but Saya wasn't afraid.

"If you wouldn't mind terribly much…" his voice trailed off as his mouth closed in on her neck, and he nibbled at it teasingly.

"Go ahead," she laughed drowsily. She felt his mouth a silent '_thank you_' before she felt the now familiar sharp prick of his fangs digging into her waiting neck.

He did consider that it was a tad inappropriate for him to feed on his queen on occasion, but Solomon found himself more and more accepting as Saya herself began encouraging him. She once expressed her love of snacking on his blood, and she urged him that his reciprocation of the action was very romantic.

As Solomon drew away, wiping the red pearls off of his queen's neck and his lips, he chuckled silently at the thought of his tiny lover's slight S and M streak.

Saya was asleep, as she usually was when he finished his late night cravings. The loss of blood still hit her system hard, and while he felt a tiny bit uneasy about that unconsciousness, Solomon couldn't deny that it was well worth the pleasure they both seemed to get from the experience.

Watching her chest rise and fall in the easy breathing of slumber, he couldn't help but pull the rest of his body away from her, and move Saya's body into a more comfortable position. He laid her down onto her side, just the way she liked, and tucked the covers gently around her sleeping form.

Solomon walked around to the other side of the large bed, and sat down beside her. He pulled out her left hand, and admired their engagement rings side by side.

Originally, he hadn't planned on getting one for himself. After all, shopping for himself wasn't something he has ever gotten any enjoyment out of. But after their run through several bars and clubs throughout the city, he let Saya pull him into a very shady looking 24-hour pawn shop.

He offered to take her shopping for one first thing in the morning, in a more...reputable environment, but Saya insisted that it be immediate.

"I'm tired of women staring at you," she had said, in the closest state a chiropteran could get to tipsy. "They always look at you with me and make moves at you anyway. You're mine now so they have to know that!"

It was because of that statement that Solomon allowed it, and Solomon paid the clerk behind the caged screens even though he knew instantly that the man was grossly overcharging them. Saya had tried to pick him out a gaudy vintage monstrosity covered in diamonds, but he gently reminded her that _she_ was the princess in the relationship, and was able to steer her towards a classier ring. It was plain, _very_ plain—simply a gold band, but he was able to satisfy her by saying that she could pick out something fancier for his actual wedding ring.

Looking at it, Solomon found himself touched. Only Saya, so human in her feelings and actions, would focus on something so small. She had made him promise to buy a new one in the morning, in addition to his promise about the wedding ring, but Solomon didn't think he would be able to make himself return his current one.

It was by no means wonderful—it was 14 carat gold, but it was more old, than vintage, and it wasn't signed by any sort of designer. It had probably been sitting in that shop for ages, and the clerk had no papers on its origins. To anyone but Solomon, it would have been just a piece of metal, but it meant too much to him now, and its memory was worth far more than a designer label.

As much as he didn't want to leave her side, Solomon knew he had an errand to do that could not involve his queen. He kissed her forehead before heading to the wardrobe and getting dressed into one of his token black suits. Saya told him she was sometimes unnerved by his ability to dress almost instantly, so he had become lazy, but he could still change in a matter of seconds, and finished knotting his tie just as Saya exhaled the same breath he took in when he began.

After grabbing his slim phone from the dresser, Solomon looked back at Saya one final time before walking into the living room.

He dialed the number without looking at the keys.

"_Well, I was wondering when you would call! It's so late!"_ The normally jovial voice from the other line was disapproving.

"I took my time," Solomon replied, aloof.

"_Oh, I see—busy with you're woman! Lucky guy."_

Solomon picked at his nails absentmindedly. "You almost gave me a heart attack, popping up like that. If you're not careful, she'll notice you're always around."

"_Oh please, Solomon,"_ the voice scoffed. _"You know as well as I do that hardly anyone can sense me anymore. But I'm so proud of you! It's about time you've secured your place with her."_

"I do need to thank you," Solomon said earnestly. "Thank you for preparing everything so perfectly; on such short notice, even I couldn't have done it all by myself."

"_It's my pleasure, my pleasure! Say, aren't you afraid of little miss queen waking up and hearing you talking to me?"_

Solomon chuckled, slightly embarrassed. "She won't be up for a while. She was…well, she was pretty tired."

The voice on the other line laughed wildly, and Solomon realized the double entendre of what he just said. Still, he decided not to correct himself, and merely rolled his eyes to nobody.

"_So, does that mean I'm free to come over for a drink?"_

Suddenly, Solomon felt a chill blow down his spine, and he bristled slightly. "Actually, Nathan, I'm going to have to cut this short. Another time perhaps. I have just remembered a…prior engagement."

Before his older brother could protest or question, Solomon closed his phone unceremoniously, and turned around to find the kitchen door to the balcony ajar.

Solomon smiled, not bothering to look at the man now standing behind in. He greeted his new visitor politely.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?

"Haji."

A/N: In case any of you were wondering, Nathan was both the host, and the waiter. He likes to pop up every now and then, and he will be visiting Kai and the Red Shield in Egypt pretty soon.

The next chapter is practically written. It will be up soon.

Also, since I know my updating is so sporadic, if anyone wants to know the ending now and see my notes, I will gladly send them to you. I hope you all will continue reading, and I know you must all be frustrated. Please give me your comments and thoughts by reviewing!

PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE!


	20. Don't Let Me Fall Out of Love

A/N: Apologies, apologies, apologies…How many is too many? I always keep you guys waiting, and I can't put into words (even typed words) how much it means that I keep getting reviews, and that you guys keep reading.

Please excuse any mistakes, again. My beta has been in no condition to help me, and my OTHER beta reader did a great job, but the files refused to be formatted correctly, so I am trying it myself, again.

PLEASE NOTE: I have noticed that the formatting of my chapters have been a bit…crooked and not consistent? I'm really angry that for some reason the document loader on erases my MANY INTENDED LINE BREAKS and moved my openings to the left FOR SOME REASON. The last chapter was supposed to have about…6 line breaks in it to show a change of perspective, but they…disappeared…It WON'T happen again.

Many questions will be answered, and to all you Haji fans, he shall be redeemed, and you're welcome.

And readers, please, don't ever think you've been forgotten.

**Chapter 20: Don't let me fall out of love**

-Doubt-

Me  
I'm the one you chose  
Out of all the people  
You wanted me the most  
I'm so sorry that I'm falling  
Help me up let's keep on running

Don't let me fall out of love

Running, running, as fast as we can  
I really hope you make it  
We're running  
Keep holding my hand

It's so we don't get separated

* * *

The air in the room was understandably tense, and for several long moments, neither of Saya's chevaliers spoke.

Haji could feel Solomon sizing him up from across the room. Solomon's handsome face was exactly as it had been thirty years ago—a perfect mask of controlled emotion. But Haji could sense the hostility building in the other man's chest, and briefly wondered if it had been entirely wise to come unarmed.

After a few more moments, Solomon donned the condescending smile that Haji had come to recognize during the war, as though the tension in the room wasn't there.

"I was wondering when you would show up," He began lightly, his tone so blithe that he could have been discussing the weather. "I figured it was only a matter of time until you decided to pay me a visit."

Haji's eyes scanned the room around him. As expected, he found evidence of Solomon's new relationship with Saya everywhere. There were photographs of the two of them together framed on almost every surface (probably Solomon's doing), and the couch, several feet away, still had her delicate scent lingering on its cushions. Haji followed that scent as it danced happily in the air, and it eventually led his gaze to a large door in the hallway that he could see past the kitchen.

_Saya._

Solomon watched him silently, and when Haji's eyes once again on him, he spoke. This time, it was a challenge.

"Aahh yes, I'm sure you can sense Saya in the next room, sleeping soundly as always. You have quite the nerve, coming in here uninvited, and in the middle of the night, too. I do admire your courage, though. But As I'm sure you know—

"I have no intention of giving her up."

Haji's response was simple, and curt. "I did not come here to fight with you, Solomon."

"Oh?" Solomon eyed him suspiciously, and Haji could tell that he wasn't dropping his guard, only raising it. Still, Solomon's smirk returned.

"Is it a peace offering you want, then?" He offered, lifting his hands and shrugging. "Wise of you. The last thing the world needs is another chiropteran war, especially when Saya has made her choice."

Haji watched silently as Solomon attempted to jab at his confidence, but he could not shake the feeling that something was off. Indeed, the rival for his affection seemed a bit too chatty, too sure of himself in Haji's presence. Thirty years ago, Solomon was impulsive, quick to act, and confrontational. Haji had expected Solomon to go on the defensive immediately, and protect his claim over Saya. But instead, Solomon was calm, and entirely confident, and had a sparkling glint in his eye that gave Haji an inkling that perhaps he knew something Haji didn't.

Haji proceeded carefully, but with no less power.

"I have nothing against making peace with you, Solomon," he began, "But I have no intention of giving Saya up, either."

Solomon looked genuinely surprised, but his voice gradually regained its spite as he responded. "I think you already did."

As Haji attempted to interject, the renegade chevalier cut him off. "I didn't believe it, Haji. I didn't believe that you were stupid enough to give Saya up, not until she told me herself. Not only did you toss her aside—you tossed her aside to someone who you _knew_ still had feelings for her.

"No, you're time with her is over."

Haji could not deny this, as much as he wanted to. He had made a mistake—a mistake that cost him the one thing in the world he could not live without. Saya…All of these months alone with Solomon…She must have been so lonely, thinking that her own chevalier had abandoned her and thrown her away, and Solomon had been there to pick up the pieces.

What hurt the most, was that Haji had actually wanted this to happen. His plan was successful; Saya _had_chosen Solomon. He had feared that his queen would never be happy with him, and that her chiropteran instincts would overpower her human heart. One day, he had thought, she would leave him, and track down Diva's ex-chevalier, so Haji had taken the liberty of taking it a step further, forcing her to choose.

How stupid he had been, how absolutely selfishly and pathetically he had acted. Haji knew he had been a coward, and his actions had made his own queen feel so unloved that she accepted the love of the one other man on the planet that could possibly make her happy.

But Haji knew now that he was wrong. Saya loved him best, he was sure. She was his lover, his sweet, human chiropteran queen.

Haji had gotten distracted, delving deep into thought as he allowed himself to meditate with her scent hanging in the air, but when he looked up once again, he saw Solomon's face, no longer smirking with confidence, glaring at him.

"I used to envy you," He stated flatly, his tone so cold that Haji could feel it chill his spine. "When Saya chose you, I only accepted it because I knew that you loved her as much as I did. But you didn't. I'll never forget how she looked when she first arrived—broken, frail, terrified. You did that to her, as if I didn't have enough reasons to dislike you…"

Solomon seemed to wait for Haji to speak, and when Haji did not, he sighed and shook his head.

"Do you know why I don't like you? Why I hate you so much?

"It isn't because she loved you. I couldn't hate you for loving her back—I'd be a hypocrite if I did. I hate you because you say you are devoted, that you love and support her, but you're a _liar._

"During the war, you never drank blood, and forced Saya to fight. How could you do that to her? She needed you to support her, and you couldn't even drink blood to be strong alongside her! You were so worried about retaining your 'humanity', that you let her break and almost die, time and time again. And I will never forgive you for that."

Although he reminded himself that Solomon was attempting to get under his skin, Haji could not deny the truth in the other chevalier's voice. He could picture Saya now, arriving in New York all alone, knowing that far away the bond between her and her chevalier was slowly breaking. Haji had done it to her, yes, but he would never hurt her intentionally. Knowing that he could have prevented this pain by realizing how true her love had been, left his chest feeling more hollow than it had been when, on a train centuries before, he agreed the to kill the only woman he would ever love.

"I did what was best for Saya," Haji defended, slightly surprised that he found himself doing so. "I am simply here now to fix a mistake that I foolishly wished to happen."

Suddenly Solomon's laughter filled the apartment, and Haji's eyes darted to the door her knew his queen to be behind. Wasn't Solomon the least bit worried about her discovering them? Although he was confused and uneasy about what the other man found so funny, Haji was more concerned about Solomon's volume.

"One man's trash is another man's treasure," Solomon mused, chuckling. He waited and met Haji's eye, and his face regained its lofty grin.

"No need to bristle like that," he continued, smiling. "She won't be up for hours. Lucky for us, she allowed me a tiny snack before you arrived. Had Saya been at all alert, I would have killed you the moment you entered the city."

Solomon took a long breath, and as he exhaled, Haji could smell the sweet aroma of his queen's blood coming faintly from his mouth. Haji could feel his muscles tighten and the fire rise in his chest. Solomon seemed to enjoy it when Haji's fists clenched painfully, and he laughed, once again.

"Did you really think I wouldn't take advantage of your foolishness?" Although he smiled, there was a dangerous anger and scorn in his voice. "You got what you wanted! Saya is finally with someone who will take care of her—me."

Surprisingly, there was a tiny bit of sympathy on Solomon's face, though he was no less intense as he continued. "I know it will be hard, but she's happy now, Haji. She doesn't want you anymore. Now do the smart thing and accept it, and maybe someday she will be willing to see you again."

Saya's oldest chevalier had to try hard to remain confident, and he reminded himself that he knew the true colors of her heart. But for just an instant, it flashed through Haji's mind that maybe…he was too late.

But he wouldn't allow himself to think that way, not now. Solomon, his rival in more ways than one, was finally standing before him, as cocky and self-assured as ever, and Haji was ready to set him straight.

"That isn't true," he said coolly. "Saya still loves me. You will see that in time."

Solomon's nostrils flared, obviously irritated that Haji wasn't bowing out gracefully. He scoffed and crossed his arms.

"You're delusional."

"And you are a _child_!" Haji's shout radiated through the entire apartment, and he was suddenly directly in front of Solomon. He towered over the blond man by several inches, and Haji had to restrain himself before he punched the nonchalant attitude off of the little prick.

Solomon exhaled, secure. "Honestly, Haji, you're what—50 years ahead of me in your new life? If you were changed when you were 25…Well, can't we call it even after the first century?"

"No, Solomon, you truly are a child," Haji seethed. He was surprised at his anger, but refused to hide it any longer. "You really have no idea of how far and deep the bonds between all of us go. You think it is so simple, and that her affections can be so easily switched, but they cannot.

"I thought that way, as well. And, just as I imagined that she was better off with you—I was _wrong._"

Haji had never seen Solomon's face so contorted in emotion. His handsome featured were disdainful, and Haji couldn't help but wonder exactly how much he had changed in the past 30 years. Indeed, the Solomon that Haji had come to dislike but begrudgingly respect would never have talked so openly, and expressively.

But one thing was certain—Solomon's love and devotion had not changed. And Haji felt the pit of his stomach tighten when he had to inwardly admit that he was not so pious.

"Trust me, Haji," Solomon exclaimed, "I do realize how far your bond with Saya goes. The fact that Saya is connected to you is literally the only thing keeping me from tearing you limb from limb! I no longer care if you live or die, because Saya has chosen _me,_ Haji. You can be her chevalier; I never said that she couldn't have servants."

He merely watched Solomon's contemptuous scowl for a few moments. Deep inside, Haji knew he found his chance.

"If you are so confident, Solomon, then I have a challenge for you." Haji made sure his voice was calm, and it appeared to catch Solomon off guard.

"A…challenge?"

Haji nodded. "Our mission will be over by the beginning of summer. If you can make Saya love you, truly love you, then I will disappear from your lives forever. If you can win over her entire heart—everything that she is, then I will let you have her."

Solomon was quiet for a moment. "And you are returning to Egypt?"

"It will as though I was never here. Saya will know nothing of my visit."

He eyed Haji, as though scanning his face for deception, but seemed content when he saw that Haji was absolutely serious.

"Fine. I accept your challenge." Solomon's tone was strange, somehow both confident and unsteady. He continued, "But as a gentleman, I must warn you; Saya has already agreed to be mine, forever. As my fiancée, she _will_ be my bride. By the time you return, we will be happily married, with every trace of you erased from her memory."

Solomon glanced down at his left hand and played with a gold band adorning it, and in spite of himself, Haji smiled.

"I sincerely doubt that."

When Solomon met his eyes, Haji said his parting words. They were crisp, cool, and painfully honest.

"Her chiropteran heart may be a puppet on your string, Solomon, but her human heart will always belong to me."

* * *

"Saya."

Solomon tried again, whispering louder this time. "Saya, sweetheart, wake up."

His queen stirred, but merely turned over. She was adorable, and he saw her mouth pout when he shook her shoulders gently. Still, she did not wake, and Solomon was so enamored with her sleeping form that his guilt almost stopped him from continuing his attempts to wake her. Almost.

"_Saya,_ wake up, now, please," He said, almost at normal volume. Finally, he pulled the covers off of her shoulders and lifted her out of bed, and laid her on his lap.

Solomon chuckled when he heard her growl slightly, and she looked up at him, blinking sleepily. "What…?"

Suddenly, looking at her face, her perfect face, in the dull light that slipped in from the kitchen, he was at a loss for words. "How…how are you?" He kicked himself inwardly for that. _Nice one, idiot._

"I _was_ fine, _sleeping._" Saya responded, rolling her eyes. "But _now_ I am awake, and cold."

Her irritated response did make him smile, and he apologized, kissing her forehead and laying her back down, nestling her back into the bed.

"But what's up," she yawned, stretching slightly, obviously less irritated now that some of the grogginess wore off. "Is something wrong?"

Solomon couldn't bring himself to answer. He wanted to be honest, and tell her that he was suddenly riddled with insecurity and doubt, but he knew it was impossible. In fact, he had to wonder why it was he felt that way in the first place. He had had a visitor, that was all—a jealous visitor who meant nothing to them now.

_I shouldn't have even woke her up, _Solomon thought resolutely. _A moment of uncertainty, that's all. She shouldn't be bothered with silly things like this. Saya needs her sleep._

Saya yawned again, and Solomon watched her brush a tendril of hair from her face. Normally he would have done it himself, but he retracted his hand when he saw the sparking adornment resting happily on her finger. With her hand in front of her face, Saya, it appeared, also noticed it, and she smiled.

"I can't believe it…" she whispered, giggling happily. "I'm so happy."

She looked up at Solomon, and he leaned down to kiss her. He felt her reach up to pull him closer, but she hesitated, and she looked at him with a questioning glance.

"Why are you all dressed again?" She asked. She didn't sound so suspicious as she was surprised. "Did you…go out?"

Normally Solomon was better at hiding minute details—it wasn't like him to forget, but Haji had caught him off-guard.

"I was about to," He lied, apologizing to her silently. He didn't make a habit of lying, but it was certainly better than her finding out what actually transpired only minutes before. "I was going to run to the store for some breakfast for when you wake up. I just woke you up to ask you if you had any requests."

He was relieved when she smiled, relaxing, and informed him that nothing warmed her better on a winter morning that fresh fruit dipped in chocolate, served to her, of course, by her adoring chevalier. She knew that even Solomon could manage something so simple, especially when they both knew he could procure any fruit or cuisine she desired, no matter the season.

"Sorry for waking you up, sweetheart," Solomon said tenderly. "It's still so early, go back to sleep. I'll be back in a few minutes."

As he leaned down to kiss her goodbye, Solomon felt Saya wrapped her arms around his neck. When Solomon pulled her up deepen their kiss, he heard her moan happily, and he smiled.

"Is this a new cologne?" She asked, her voice almost dripping with seduction. "It smells…divine."

Solomon's breath caught in his throat, and he resisted the very strong urge to jump back and throw her off of him.

"W…what?"

Saya sat up completely and ran her hands through his hair. Solomon felt completely helpless, unable to move, with a million thoughts racing through his head. She nuzzled her face into his neck and nibbled at it teasingly.

"This smell…mmmm," Saya brought her mouth to his again, but didn't seem to notice when Solomon didn't respond as he usually did. "Have you worn it before? It seems almost familiar…"

_Haji._

_You unbelievable bastard._

"Yes," he lied, trying to maintain composure. He was lucky that he didn't need to breathe often, as he found himself unable to inhale. "I've only worn it once or twice-It's not one of my favorites."

Solomon tried earnestly to find a way out of the situation. Saya, his queen, _his_ queen, was all over him, kissing and biting him; At any other time he would be all too enthusiastic. But Haji's scent still hung heavy in the air, sticking and dripping off of him like honey, and Saya was lapping it up happily.

Saya was obviously no longer tired, and as she tugged at his tie and pulled him closer, Solomon knew there was only one thing to do. He wished, honestly, that it wasn't necessary, especially on the eve of their engagement, but it couldn't be helped. To make love now, with Haji's presence still lingering in the air like a fog, was a crime against both of them.

"Darling," he whispered, purring softly in a way he knew she couldn't resist, "There is something I would like before I go…"

He trailed off seductively, pressing her shoulder down into the soft mattress. She sighed happily, and didn't fight him when he leaned over her and nibbled gently on her neck.

"You wouldn't mind, would you, if I had another taste of my sweet fiancée before I go?" He felt horrible for manipulating her like that, knowing full well that she couldn't resist his charms when he didn't want her to, but it was necessary.

_I'm confident in our love. I know I am. But still…She can't know that he was here._

_No, absolutely not._

"Again?" Saya asked, almost irritable. But when Solomon chewed playfully on her ear, she rolled her eyes and smiled, allowing him to continue.

The moment her fresh blood met his mouth, he apologized inwardly to her. She would be weaker now, even more so than earlier that evening when he had snacked on her.

_I'm sorry, Saya, I'm so sorry._

_You'll never know why I have to do this, but…_

_It's for us._

She didn't protest, even when he felt her pulse slightly slow, and when he pulled away, he let go of her arm, which fell onto the comforter with a tiny thud. She was unconscious, again, which Solomon was grateful for, but only because it allowed him to think of a plan.

Before he knew it, he was running all through the apartment, opening every window and shutter, even the door to the balcony. Saya's old room, the dining room, even the air vents were unbolted. Windows he had never touched were suddenly forced open, and the icy wind of the night blew in. As Solomon found his way back into their room, he saw Saya's sleeping form shiver slightly, and he took extra blankets from the linen closet, and gently cocooned his tiny queen in them.

_His smell…it's everywhere._

_Jesus Christ…It's even on me._

Solomon had never himself fancied hot showers—in his human life, the boarding schools and military had consumed his existence, and they forced him to enjoy the rush that the icy water gave you in the morning.

But now, scalding water poured over him, a waterfall of boiling rapids, burning away the events of the night. This water would have been unbearable to a human being, and even as a chiropteran, the heat almost made his flawless skin blister. But he enjoyed the pain, almost; as he scrubbed his skin continuously with soap, it felt as though Haji, his scent, and everything he had said, were being singed off of him.

He felt…clean.

Saya's sleeping form seemed so natural when Solomon stepped back into the room, towel drying his hair and enjoying the freezing string of the icy air from the window blowing on his steaming skin. As he sat down next to her, he almost wished she was awake, just to see her face—what a sight he must have been to behold; haggard and damp, dressed only in slacks and nothing else. Their intimacy had grown volumes, but he would never present himself to her like this.

But Solomon knew what he had to do—the apartment was empty of him, sure. Soon, his scent would be completely undetectable, even to his heightened senses, but still, the phantom Haji still loomed deep inside of them both, and Solomon couldn't promise himself that he was strong to keep it completely together, when his rival had challenged him mere feet away from the table they ate breakfast at every morning.

It was simple. They needed to get out of here. Now. For both of their sakes.

Although Solomon had calmed down significantly, his head now resting clearly and resolutely on his shoulders, something about what Haji had said left him uneasy. Solomon admitted to himself that he could be a bit arrogant, hotheaded sometimes, maybe, and even selfish at times, but he knew that Saya would still have some sort of feelings for Haji. Even after everything that happened, he was still her chevalier. They had spent centuries together, and their bond was apparent. Saya had told him that she even lost her virginity to Haji (though he didn't really enjoy hearing it). It couldn't be helped—chiropterans are bonded together, no matter what their personal relations are.

But Haji had been so…confident, so unbelievably sure of himself that it made Solomon question his own history with their beloved queen. Their love was real, obviously, but perhaps it had been a bit rushed; Saya may still not realize exactly _how_ right her new, golden chevalier was to her. If she somehow caught wind of Haji's presence, it could bring back memories for her that might skew her judgment.

Haji must have been counting on that—that Solomon would be foolish enough to get psyched out and fumble, making Saya doubt their love, forcing her to run back to Haji.

_Not a fucking chance._

Packing for Saya was easy, probably because shopping for her was so easy, and half of her closet was purchased by him alone. He couldn't help it—he loved her modest upbringing and frugalness, and how she had on more than a few occasions, refused several items based on price alone, only to find it neatly hung up in the closet that night. They even got into little tiffs about it, and she would chastise him for spoiling her and wasting money, and he would promise to tone it down, even though they both knew he wouldn't. Solomon just loved how she looked in the things he provided for her, and loved imagining how much better it was for her with him, than back in Okinawa.

Saya didn't end up waking up until somewhere around midday, after he had been driving for about eight hours.

* * *

The icy wind stung Haji's wings as he glided through the silent city. He was already far past New York; soon, he would reach the end of civilization on this continent. He would need to feed before making the long journey over the ocean, and Solomon's comment about his…lack of appetite during the war still echoed in his ears.

He had made so many mistakes during the war, and there were so many things that he could never atone for. How had Solomon done it? He always seemed so at ease with himself. But Haji assumed it must be easy for him for the little pretty boy to be calm, now that he had Saya.

Haji remembered the first time that he allowed his wings to erupt from his back. It was so long ago, on a brisk morning in 1883. The day before had been Joel's seventy-second birthday, and Diva had…That was the day of the massacre that changed Saya forever, and it was the day that Haji himself had been…changed.

Some people must have survived Diva and Amshel's slaughter on the manor. Authorities had been summoned. The Red Shield, men who knew of Joel's experiments, which included Joel's grown son, the original 'David', had joined them. They all wanted to capture, and eliminate Saya. Haji had no force but to kill them to protect her.

But she had been horrified—He would never forget the horror in her eyes after she watched him fight for her. Saya's flawless knight…had become a grotesque monster.

Days later, after they had salvaged what they could from the wreckage, and found and smashed open Joel's fireproof safe filled with money, they were on a train, searching for clues on where to find Red Shield, who were already trying to track down Diva. It was then that she asked him—

It was there that he agreed to kill her when it was all over.

Haji didn't realize until centuries later that that promise would haunt them long after they agreed to live.

Maybe…maybe it was so difficult for his queen to settle down in Okinawa because she had never planned to get that far.

To anyone else, even the members of her own family, she must have looked so content while they were all planning her wedding to Haji. But Haji could see it in her eyes—a sense of longing, or perhaps, of loss. And Saya _was_ happy, but there was still a fire burning in her chest, one that only he was aware of, that he knew would one day burn Saya alive from the inside out.

Regret, confusion, yearning…All of these feelings that his queen was pushing away from her after she had woken up…Haji could feel them like a thorn in his side, even after she agreed to marry him.

Would she had woken up one day, and realize that Solomon was alive somewhere? How long would it be before her chiropteran instincts kicked in and tracked him down? Sooner or later, the Red Shield would mention his existence to her, and the seed of doubt would be planted. All of those feelings would sprout, and Saya, sweet, devoted, innocent Saya, would be caught in between her human and chiropteran hearts.

If they were still the people they had been at the zoo, it would be different. But there was a critical difference between he and Saya—Haji had reverted to the man he was back then. He took full advantage of the situation now that the war was over; he and the woman he loved would be married and they would finally live the way they had planned back at the zoo.

He looked back on it so fondly now…Of course, when he first arrived, they had both been so childish. Saya had still not learned how to fully interact with outside humans, and he was scarred from his part abuses. But over time, she began to favor him over all of her other attendants, and when he was 14, she made her very first declaration to him.

She wished to live on, and explore the world with her sword, along with Haji at her side.

And as they got older, he took a more active role planning their potential future. Haji had grown up with a family of nomads, and had traveled all around Europe, and parts of western Asia with his family before he was sold to Joel and Amshel. He would tell her all sorts of stories about the world, and watch with joy as her eyes glowed with wonder and excitement.

_I will take you there_, he had assured, stroking her hair and holding her hand. _One day, I will take you from here, and we shall be married soon thereafter. I will serve and protect forever, Saya. _

They were so unbelievably in love, so innocently in love. At first he had been nothing more than her servant, but he soon grew to be a gentleman in her eyes, and as her only suitor, their relation progressed. She would complain to him that he had become sterner and more proper as they grew older, but he knelt down, kissed her hand, and assured her that it was only because being a prim and proper lady suited her so well, and she would need those skills when they moved past the zoo and into Parisian society.

Joel and Amshel had raised him strictly, molding him into both a courteous Victorian gentleman and meticulous servant. He had thought it was a service they were doing for him for when he courted their 'daughter' and eventually took her from the zoo, but much later he realized it was simply to make him more attractive to her so he would one day…mate with her.

But during the war he had never forgotten those dreams they formed together, and as her hibernation was coming to an end, he began preparing for their life together. He had always held out hope that she would chose to continue living, and he only assumed that Saya knew what was in store for her when she woke up.

However, just as Haji changed very little from the days at the zoo, Saya had become so…different. Years of bloodshed had felt her scarred, and apathetic about life. Her chevalier taking the active role in their future that they once planned, something that she had once adored, took her by surprise. Had she not thought he was still that man deep down, under the chiropteran shell and servant's mask?

But Saya wasn't the Saya he had fallen in love with at the zoo, and the woman he had planned to marry was dead—crushed under the burden of being humanity's savior, and tortured by the faces of the innocent that she had to kill to achieve that goal. And when he realized this, that the Saya he always pictured was hiding under the guise of a warrior, he…

He pushed her away.

For just one moment, he fell out of love with her. Even though it was for just an instant, he doubted whether or not he loved her as much as he used to. But that was enough.

That was enough to stab her through the heart, and for Solomon to make his move.

But Haji realized something: no matter who Saya was, he would love her more than anything. It wasn't the fact that her blood had given him life, or that he had grown up with her. No, it was because she was beautiful, and innocent, and sweet, and gentle, and feisty, and stubborn, and…perfect.

No matter what she was, he would love her. Even if the Saya he knew at the zoo wasn't who she was any more, it didn't matter.

If she was a chiropteran, he would love her. If she was a killer, or an abomination, he would love her forever. Even if she became something new in the future, or if Solomon changed her, he would keep falling in love with only her, over and over.

He made a mistake—it was obvious. But there was nothing to do now but try and fix it. Saya was a human, deep down, and loved him best. Would she remember? Would Solomon allow her the chance to realize that he had a mistake, and worth her forgiveness?

Now…all he had to do was wait, and pray that the seed of doubt had been planted.

_Please…please let this work…_

_Don't ever let me fall out of love, ever again…I will love her forever, if given the chance._

* * *

Solomon watched with a small smile as Saya's eyes slowly blinked open. First, she groggily observed the inside of the car, before looking at him.

"…Where the hell am I?" Although she cursed, there didn't seem to be any real malice or anger in her voice. She was normally much more irritable when she woke up, actually.

"In a car," he answered happily. Solomon watched with a tiny chuckle as she rolled her eyes.

"But where are we going?" Suddenly her attitude changed, and she seemed to stiffen. "Did something happen? Did they find us?"

He was caught off guard by her abrupt (albeit understandable) reaction. "What? Oh, no, honey, nothing like that. We're just going to Maine for a little while. I thought it would be a nice change of pace. You know, get out of the city so we can clear our heads while we plan the wedding."

Saya gave a visible exhale, and stretched her arms out ahead of her. Solomon had wrapped her in several blankets, and she let out an annoyed groan as she attempted to escape them.

"Maine?" She asked once she was free, her tone confused, yet still slightly irritated. "What about work? And I thought we weren't even going to think about the wedding until spring started. Why the rush?"

Solomon's hands whitened as he clutched the steering wheel tighter, but Saya didn't seem to notice.

"Work isn't a problem, dear, you know that. I told them my father was sick, and I would need some time off; they're very accommodating. And about the wedding, well…there is still a lot that we have to discuss—I just couldn't wait."

He could feel Saya watching his face, and he smiled before pulling her towards him for a kiss. Solomon had wanted it to last longer than a few moments, but he heard Saya chuckle and murmur against his lips, _watch the road, Solomon._

"We could get married right now, you know," Saya said randomly, after he had fixed his eyes on the road.

Solomon turned to her slowly. "W-what?"

She smiled. "We could go to Atlantic city or Las Vegas or something, if you want to get it over with. We don't need to do something big. Stop by City Hall on the way to a justice of the Peace."

Horrified, Solomon tried to contain his emotion. "_Saya._ This is our _wedding._ It is not merely something to _get over with_."

Saya chuckled, "I'm just saying—"

Solomon cut her off, "No, honestly, I mean it. This is a very big deal! We're getting married, Saya, and let's not pretend I am a man known for his discreet presentations."

She shrugged, still smiling. "I had no idea the wedding itself meant so much to you."

Solomon saw Haji's face smirking back at him for a moment, and almost swerved the car in shock. A inkling of jealousy began to pool in his stomach, and he made no attempt to hide it from Saya.

"You were going to have a big wedding with Haji, weren't you?"

Perhaps it had been in bad taste to bring it up, but Saya didn't seem to mind. She merely looked thoughtful for a moment before responding.

"I wouldn't really call it a big wedding," she began, looking as though she was thinking hard. Solomon had to wonder if she had blocked it from her memory, and kicked himself for bringing it up. Haji was probably counting on stupid mistakes like that…

"There really wouldn't have been many people there," Saya continued. "We did have bridesmaids and groomsmen, though. And I guess we were spending a lot on flowers and food and my dress and everything. I never really thought about it, to be honest. I suppose it would have been…average. Yeah, average sounds about right."

Solomon couldn't help but be satisfied with that answer. He was certain that Haji would change his tune if he heard Saya utter _average_ when talking about life with him.

The conversation more or less deteriorated after that, with both of them agreeing to talk about the subject later, and Saya making Solomon promise to make most of the arrangements himself, since she was never much for planning big events. Of course, he was more than happy to oblige, and they drove in silence.

After a few more minutes of driving, Saya looked around the car more curiously this time, analyzing the spacious interior.

"This is the first time I've seen this car, I think. This is that big Bentley, isn't it?"

"It is," He replied, turning onto a secluded road uphill.

"You realize you're driving a luxury vehicle in the pouring snow, right?"

Solomon laughed. "Well, it's the largest car I own. It's still quite a blizzard outside. Safety first."

As Saya fiddled with his mp3 player, Solomon remembered with both annoyance and satisfaction when he did actually have a larger car. He found it only logical to have at least one larger vehicle at his disposal, just in case. Although he normally preferred imports, he ended up buying a slick black Cadillac, with an amazingly spacious interior and phenomenal speed.

But one day, about a month after Saya had begun staying with him, Solomon had convinced her to let him treat her to gelato, which she had never tried. They were discussing cars, which she knew a surprising amount about (to his delight), and she mentioned that Haji drove a Cadillac, when necessary.

Even though at that point, they had only been friends, Saya mentioning that prompted Solomon to sell it the very next day. The Bentley quickly took it's place, with Saya none the wiser.

"Hey Solomon," Saya began, breaking the silence between them, "does this mean you weren't lying?"

He didn't look at her. "About…what?"

Saya reclined her seat, and propped her feet up on the dash. "Do you remember back when you picked me up from the airport, and we got stopped at the exit? You told the security guards we had just come back from Maine, and that you had a house there. Do you really?"

"Oh," Solomon replied, "I can't believe you remember that. I do have a house there, actually."

"Really? You never mention it."

Solomon sighed. He had never mentioned it for a…good reason. Or, at least he thought so.

"Well, to be honest, it isn't mine—at least it didn't start out as mine. You'll recall, Diva had five chevaliers; there was Amshel, me, Karl, James, and then Nathan. I don't think you fought Nathan much during the war, but I'm sure you remember him as the effeminate, garishly dressed one. This is one of his houses.

"I came upon it quite by accident. It was sort of left to me after the war ended. I use it for storage, mostly. There are a lot of things from the war there—things I inherited, things I kept, and the like. I didn't ever invite you here because I thought it would be a bit much for you, but now, well, I think you're ready."

Saya was silent, but she nodded.

It wasn't a total lie, what he was telling her. The house really was Nathan's, but after his older brother had nursed him back to health, he admitted to having grown tired of it. Nathan himself had collected much of the memorabilia, and Solomon added his own share of trinkets and memories after he took procession of it.

Before he took the job as linguist, he considered ending his life there.

Solomon would sit alone on the large polished staircase, looking through old photographs. He would cling to Diva's old dresses, trying to cope with the loss of his original queen. It had been like losing his mother all over again. Saya had been hibernating continents away, with her dark chevalier keeping watch, and he believed that the world, which had continued growing and aging and progressing, no longer needed him in it.

But one day, he had woken up from a self-induced sleep with a new outlook on life. He had dreamt, for the first time since his decades long regeneration, and it had been about his angel.

She had told him, after he had proposed and she rejected him, that they could not be together.

_I'm sorry. I don't have time to dream of a sweet future together_

_I…appreciate your feelings._

And hadn't be told her that he would always be there for her? That he would be her chevalier no matter what, even if she didn't return his feelings?

Maybe this lifetime…he would have time to dream of a future together with him.

And, looking at his queen, Solomon knew he was right.

* * *

The day had passed so quickly. Soon, Solomon found himself driving over the long, snow covered driveway that led to the manor on the top of the hill, after he had unlocked the giant, elaborate metal gate that surrounded the entire property. Of course, there were no houses close enough to be called neighbors, by any means, but it was a precaution made by the old money that had originally built the mansion over a century, and was appreciated by the flamboyant chevalier that had restored it decades later.

Saya had been a bit cross since their conversation in the car revealed no _real_ reason for Solomon's impulsive trip, not to mention that she soon realized he had packed for her, clothed her, and even strapped her into the car while she was unconscious.

Solomon had tried to explain that he had _tried_ to wake her, to no avail, but she merely turned at him as they stood in the magnificent foyer of the house, glared.

"_I'm not a baby, Solomon." She spat, crossing her arms. "And who's fault is it, exactly, that I couldn't wake up?"_

Normally, he would do anything to stop her from being mad at him, but this time, Solomon took it in stride. He knew, it was a small price to pay, to make sure that Haji's impromptu visit never dawned on her.

But she had cooled down as the day went on. He unpacked quickly and took her into town. It was a tiny, unremarkable country place, but the fresh white snow on the ground (compared to the grey slush in the city) gave it a pleasant glitter that seemed to brighten Saya's day, and by dinner time, she was conversing with him as usual, without a scowl.

Solomon was relieved when they returned home, and Saya was too exhausted to thoroughly investigate the house, and was only interested in where the master bedroom was, and how long it would take her fiancé to carry to there.

Within minutes, Solomon was playing with the stray tendrils of her hair, as Saya nestled into the warm comforter adorning the large bed in the master suite. She smiled up at him silently and kissed him, before turning over, leaving Solomon to stare sadly into her back.

How he wished, after the tremendous events of the last 24 hours, that he could join her in slumber.

"Saya, my darling," he whispered, noticing that the desperation in his chest had begun to creep into his voice. "I'll be with you, soon…"

Even if he could not unite with her in conventional sleep, Solomon knew that his body needed a break. He did not trust himself to spend an entire night next to her without his mind plunging into fantasies about her leaving him, and Haji spiriting her away. No, he was smart enough to know that he needed to rest.

Pills were so unreliable; he could be unconscious anywhere from six hours to seventy-two hours. This time, he would try something new.

He dug out a small vile from his medicine beg. Solomon pressed the needle through the stopper and observed the clear fluid slowly fill the chamber. He wasn't going to overdo it this time—he didn't want to worry Saya again. But, just in case he was asleep for longer than he anticipated, he left her a tiny note on the bedside table.

Solomon could never stand the feeling of injections, even after his chiropteran abilities made him practically immune to pain. But he didn't flinch, used to it by now.

Immediately, he could feel his mind beginning to fog. The small dosage he had given himself could have killed 20 humans, easy, and he was able to cuddle up to his sweet fiancée right before he felt himself falling deeper, and deeper, into the abyss of unconsciousness.

* * *

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it. This was the hardest chapter to write, ever, although it is the one I have been waiting for ever since beginning this story over 2 whole years ago. I hope it was worth the wait.

Also, my offer still stands if any of my readers wish to see my notes and know what happens in the end. I know the wait must be unbelievably frustrating. THIS STORY WILL END BY THE END OF JUNE. I can't promise regular updates, but I can promise that. But if you can't wait, send me a private message or email, and I will send my notes to you.

I am so grateful you have all stayed with me. Thank you all so much.


	21. Tell Me part 2

A/N: To anyone who reads these author's note is well aware, I'm currently a Law student. I'm so happy to report that I will be transferring schools in the fall. This story is almost three years old, and I started writing it when I first started at my college. It really means a lot to me.

This chapter took much longer than I expected, because I broke up with my boyfriend. We were together for a really long time. Hahaha you guys didn't really need to know that, but at least I have a good excuse for my tardy updating this time.

But I am sorry for the long wait.

The story will be finished soon. Expect maybe 6 more chapters. It should be done in early to mid-July. I'm so sorry I won't be done by the end of June. A few people have come forward and asked me for my notes. The offer is always open.

Thank you all for sticking by me. Your reviews have truly inspired me. Please continue giving me feedback!

**Chapter 21: Tell Me part 2**

-Confessions-

An empty stage  
With nothing but this girl  
Who's singing this simple melody  
And wearing her heart on her sleeve  
And right now...

I have you  
For a moment I can tell I've got you  
Cause your lips don't move  
And something is happening  
Cause your eyes tell me the truth  
I've put a spell over you.

* * *

Even in his human life, Solomon had very rarely dreamt. And now in his chiropteran life, the visions he experiences when he forced himself to sleep were more like memories—dreams that required him to relive over a century of life, forcing him to come to terms with everything that his conscious mind didn't dare dwell on.

Every day, every night, in and out and in and out, his mind touched on every possibility imaginable, good or bad. With Saya, it had gotten better, his brain occupying itself with fantasies of their life together, the arrangements they needed to make, the appointments they had…

But still, all of those hours awake, painfully alone in the silence of the sleeping world, dark thoughts crept in. Solomon could only keep insecurities at bay for so long. Soon, he would find himself staring at Saya's sleeping form, remembering how she rejected him years ago, or how James had promised to bring her severed head to him, while Solomon was too weak to break from the chains that he was bound in.

How many times had he pictured it? Those last few days during the war, while he was too weak from loss of blood to stay conscious, let alone escape, Solomon had hallucinated James' bringing Saya's limp form to him. Her body, so pale and lifeless at his feet, with no blood in her system that he might even join her in sweet death. He would hold her, cradle her in his arms, until he jolted back in consciousness, once again alone in the manor's basement. And soon, even with her content in their bed together, those horrific delusions crept in.

It was an even trade—for hours, or days, or even weeks if he chose, he could escape the madness of an ever-thinking mind, and find peace, and in return, he would sometimes be forced to relive his past, good and bad, and remember times that his present state had tried to forget.

_Lucid dreaming,_ he later remembered it being called.

Was it the late '70s? No, probably the '80s. 1983 sounded about right.

Solomon had always found Nathan to be rather mysterious. Even though he was always open, often flamboyantly so, he had never followed Amshel as obediently as the rest of the brothers, and Amshel often acted as though Nathan wasn't there. Nobody even knew how he was changed, and he had literally just appeared at the front door one day, with Diva on his arm, and when she explained that he was her new chevalier, that was that.

But Nathan's overly affectionate manner seemed to throw all of Solomon's other brothers off, and as each of them had their own business to attend to, no one questioned his motives or his history. Only his devotion to Diva mattered, and all was well.

But perhaps it was Solomon's own nature that made his curious about Nathan. Solomon knew himself to be, well, rather popular within the realm of the brothers. Amshel favored him for his unwavering loyalty and their history together, and even Karl and James took a strong liking to him.

It was no surprise that Karl preferred him over Amshel and James. Amshel was cold, indifferent at best, to Karl, and James, who had been a sergeant during the Second World War, happened to carry his strong dislike of Asians into his new life. But Solomon had befriended him before they had Diva change him. Amshel ordered Solomon to find a suitable candidate for a new chevalier, and he and Karl hit it off. In Vietnam, Karl had been a very successful land owner and merchant, with a wife and a child. But his family died moths before Solomon knew him, and was slowly rebuilding his life when Solomon first came upon him. Something about his will, and his desire to regain what he had lost, made him Solomon's choice, and he would never forgive himself for asking Amshel to choose him and have Diva change him, even after he was informed of what awaited Karl after his transformation.

But James did come as a surprise. Amshel had changed James because it honestly would have been a crime _not_ to. James, had he ever returned from the war, would probably have been the most decorated black serviceman in history. He had risen up in the ranks quickly, despite his race, and was a truly devoted soldier. Solomon had just finished discussing future plans with their other brother, Marten Bormann, in the summer of 1944, when they walked in to find Amshel, Diva, and Karl standing around a body on the dining room table in the opulent mansion in Germany.

Diva had apparently smelled the battlefield while Karl had taken her to feed, and when she found James' almost-dead body, she found his too handsome to leave. Knowing Amshel would be furious if Karl allowed her to create a new chevalier without permission, he placated her by bringing him home with them, and after realizing his potential usefulness, Amshel allowed Diva to change him. He had been interested in how the chevalier transformation would affect a _"negro_."

One day, during Diva's hibernation, Solomon had been sitting on the veranda, absentmindedly flipping through a book when James approached him. Amshel had all but told Solomon that it was his job to be friends and keep tabs on the rest of the brothers, so he and James were no strangers to each other. But this time James approached him directly, and asked him about his past.

"Amshel tells me you were also in the military in your former life." He said, sitting down on the empty seat across from Solomon.

Solomon closed the book and smiled. He took a deep breath, trying to remember the time, without recalling the painful memories. "I was. When I was 18, from 1911 to 1914."

James stared at him for a moment. "Is that when you met Diva?"

Solomon sighed, "No, I didn't meet her about 3 years after that. I got injured and became a doctor. I actually went back to the war as a surgeon to help the troops, and got injured again during a bombing of the camp. That's when Amshel introduced me to Diva, and here I am."

He and James seemed to share a moment of understanding, one that only soldiers can have, and Solomon saw the first genuine smile he had ever seem from the other man.

He stood up and saluted quickly. "Another military man. I knew there was a reason I could respect you."

But even after he had earned the respect of James and Karl, Nathan had somehow remained an utter mystery. It wasn't as though Nathan was unfriendly or cold, it was the opposite, actually. It was his utter friendliness and outspokenly open attitude that made his a little suspicious. And one night, Solomon wasn't sure exactly why, but he found himself in the front row of an off-Broadway play, just outside of New York, in 1983.

After the show, which he admitted was quite nice, he walked confidently backstage with a bouquet of roses, to congratulate his newest brother on a very wonderful directorial debut.

Nathan must have sensed him sitting at the premier, but he probably hadn't expected him to actually some meet him afterwards. As Solomon stood patiently for Nathan to finish greeting a tiny crowd, another small crowd had gathered, to Solomon's chagrin, to gawk at Nathan's devastatingly attractive blonde admirer.

Nathan marched over to him with a disbelieving smile, and kissed him on both cheeks.

"Well, this _is_ a surprise! Since when did you start enjoying theatre, Solomon?"

"Well," Solomon began, offering Nathan the flowers, "You gave us all tickets; it would rude not to come. It was very good, you should be proud."

Nathan took the flowers slowly, and Solomon found something very genuine and honest in Nathan's presence then. When Nathan asked if Solomon would like to accompany him and the rest of the cast to a small party downtown, he found himself accepting, happily.

Perhaps it was because Nathan seemed so relaxed and comfortable in his chevalier life, but Solomon felt for the first time that he could actually trust someone in his chiropteran world.

They stood together on the balcony of a dirty apartment downtown, while actors and technicians let off steam and drank the night away inside, when Solomon picked up a pack of cigarettes left by the veranda's previous inhabitants.

"Have you got a light?" Solomon asked the other man, who smiled and laughed, before whipping out a lighter and lighting it.

Solomon couldn't help but chuckle when Nathan pulled a joint out of pocket and lit it. Nathan took a drag and remarked, "I didn't know you smoked."

Solomon smiled wryly. "I don't."

They stood there for what seemed like hours. Nathan broke the silence with a very casual, "So. How old were you?"

Solomon took a very long drag of his third cigarette before answering, "23," and watched a long trail of smoke shoot across the air as he exhaled. "And you?"

"27…I'm still surprised you showed up."

Solomon drew another breath of nicotine. "Yeah, me too."

More comfortable silence followed. Nathan was again the first to speak.

"How is it treating you?"

Solomon looked at him for a moment, before returning his gaze to the city street below. After he reached for Nathan's joint and took a hit, he responded a surprisingly honest, "Like fucking shit."

He continued. "But you seem to be taking it fairly well. Honestly, I think you're almost freakishly well-adjusted, considering it's only been about 30 years. I'm jealous."

Nathan laughed. "Are you? You shouldn't be. You're Diva's favorite. She's always choosing you over everyone else."

Solomon stared at Nathan. Something had been on his mind since Diva changed him. "That's what different about you, isn't it, Nathan? You've never done it with her, have you?"

Nathan nodded calmly. "What clued you in?"

"You've always just seemed…different, in that respect. Diva never wants anything like that from you. Doesn't it bother you?"

Nathan chuckled. "Should it? I'm only interested in doing what she needs me to. She's our little queen, after all. Diva does what she wants, or should I say, _who_she wants."

Solomon continued Nathan's thought without realizing it, "whenever she wants."

Solomon wasn't sure exactly why he was speaking so freely with Nathan, and even now, as he relived the moment in painstaking clarity, he could not for the life of him understand what had gotten in to him. Nathan had been so mature, under his flamboyant flaming-queen like attitude, and for the first time in decades, Solomon found himself once again feeling almost human.

But those memories of that particular conversation opened up a door to a room full of painful memories. Even now that he finally had Saya, the woman whom he had pledged his eternal love to, Solomon and his fiancée both knew there was one person who's bond with him was burned into his blood forever.

Diva.

_Diva._

The first woman he had ever thought he truly loved, and the first woman to ever break his heart.

The volatile blue queen, his first queen, and when he was human: the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

As much as he loved her, Saya's first impression on him was nothing compared to his first queen. In the midst of Amshel's fatal wound into his stomach, Solomon had lost consciousness, entranced by those bewitching blue diamonds.

After Diva has given his practically lifeless body her blood, he needed time to complete the transformation completely, and Diva had still not shaken off her sleep entirely, and it was necessary to keep them separated for a few days.

And he could still remember those first days apart from her—he was so confused and alone. He suddenly cared for no one, for nothing, except for her. His body was too weak to use its newfound powers to break down the heavy bedroom door that Amshel had locked him behind. He didn't even know her _name_, but his very soul was devoted her.

At the time, he found himself wondering,

_Is this…love?_

Amshel checked on him every few hours, and nourished his younger brother with his own blood until Solomon was strong enough, and Diva coherent enough, for them to meet.

Solomon had been presented to her much like a gift.

Donned in the finest suit he had ever worn, he obediently followed Amshel into part of his brother's manor he had never seen, and finally into a room that Solomon felt as though he had been waiting his whole life to enter.

"Diva, I have a present for you."

So that was her name. _Diva…_

Across the large room, Solomon saw an elegant figure stir from atop a chaise surrounded by wispy curtains. He followed as Amshel moved farther into the room.

"This is Solomon. He is your new chevalier."

Suddenly she was standing directly before him. The ends of her luscious black hair waved gracefully past her waist. He wore nothing but a long silk slip, just translucent enough that Solomon could see the silhouette of her statuesque legs and slim waist.

Even though his first reaction was to kiss and embrace her, he found his body kneeling in front of this goddess, reaching for her pale hand, and kissing it tenderly.

"Oohh," Solomon heard her sigh, his queens voice like sweet bells in the air, "I like him, Amshel. Leave us."

For the first time in his life, Solomon didn't notice when his older brother left the room.

He was on his feet instantly, with Diva playing with his wavy hair. She twirled around the room and danced gracefully to soundless music. She pulled him over, and he picked her up and spun her around. He placed her onto the canopied bed, and could restrain himself no longer.

"I love you," Solomon began, nuzzling her neck and breathing in her scent. "I live only for you now, my queen."

Solomon remembered those days very well, those first few years after his transformation—they were happiest of his life before he met Saya a century later. Diva was so beautiful, so innocent and untouched. Even though, looking back, Solomon couldn't help but feel like simply a toy to her, it still made him happy remembering that she seemed to enjoy nothing more than playing with him in bed.

Even after she changed Karl, they all got along. Diva loved Karl, and spent a fair amount of that active period with him. But he and Karl were both changed near the beginning of that particular phase, within the first year, so there was plenty of time to have with her when Amshel wasn't secretly experimenting on her.

Solomon had promised so many things to Diva. Whenever they finished in bed together, she would always express her desire to go outside, to shop and have fun. Amshel gave her no freedom, and as much as Solomon had wanted to take her out, so fulfill every desire she could imagine, he could never bring himself to disobey Amshel.

And that is how he and Karl differed. Karl had no qualm about disobeying Amshel if Diva wished to do something that he had forbidden. And there were so many things that Amshel demanded that the other chevaliers never do—take Diva outside the grounds without his permission, take her out in public, allow contact with a human, television, music, books. Soon, Karl became the person her went to for her true desires, and Solomon became simply a handsome way to let off steam.

But he felt no resentment. No, as time went on, he became increasingly aware of Diva's fickle nature and desires. And Amshel seemed to have more useful reasons for his existence; he became Amshel's second-hand man, and he did all of the dirty work while Amshel slowly began controlling the world.

Still, there was a small bit of resentment, of jealousy. Solomon soon realized that he and Diva did not have the connection that she had with the rest of her chevaliers. She chose all of them, and changed them because she wanted to. But Solomon…Amshel had chosen this life for him. Even with Karl, Diva had been given the choice to change him, or simply kill him. Amshel even admitted once, that Diva had seemed more interested in the blood flowing out of him from Amshel's wound, than giving Solomon her own blood as he lay dying on the basement floor.

But he did love her. He really did. Even though he soon became jaded and numb inside, Solomon still held her above everything else. What else did he have to live for?

Until…Saya.

Was in the '40s? Yes, It must have been around 1944.

It was rare to find there particular brothers together. After James was changed, it was difficult to find Diva without at one of her chevaliers around because their numbers were growing, but not often were they all in the same place.

Amshel was still doing business in Germany, and Nathan had just shown up, but was settling affairs elsewhere, but the three of them, Solomon, Karl, and James, were together with Diva, basking in her attention and love.

It was the manor house he was currently residing in with Saya that this happened. It was such a wonderful location, away from the city and the war. Amshel was never one to decorate their bases of operation, considering they didn't need sleep and rarely actually lived there, but Diva's room was always magnificent.

It always reminded Solomon of a doll's house. Everything seemed to pristine and surreal. There were always lace curtains, canopied beds, and frilled pillows. Her closet was always filled with antique dresses and gowns. Amshel never allowed her to wear pants, even anything remotely modern, and whenever he was there with her, Diva was always dressed in laces and ribbons, in a room frozen in time.

Something happens whenever a chevalier is with their queen. A sense of extreme calm and happiness spreads over their whole body. No matter what their personal opinions of each other were, whenever Diva was present, especially without Amshel, all was well.

And it was well. Solomon and James were sitting at the coffee table in her suite-like room, reading contently, while Karl lounged on the floor beside Diva's bed, braiding the hair that hung over the edge of the bed while their queen napped on it.

"So Solomon," James began, closing his book and addressing his brother expectantly. "Does Amshel know when our involvement in the war will be finished?"

Solomon didn't look up. "Is now really the time to discuss it?"

James was by no means a patient man. "Don't avoid the subject, Solomon. I haven't been in Europe since I met Diva. I want to know how much longer this war will take."

Solomon sighed, and gave him the usual smile. "Amshel will be back next week, you know. I hardly think Diva would appreciate our petty discussions in her presence."

He was aware that James hated it when he refused to acknowledge and rise to his sneers, and James spat in response, while still remaining his cool exterior, "You know as well as I do she isn't even listening."

The blonde man sighed again, finally closing his book, and faced his darker brother, conceding. "If you must know, Amshel says it's going very well. He says that the Martin and the rest of the team have begun to crumble, and soon we'll just pack up and leave. The Allies have a victory in the bag, he says."

James seemed satisfied, but his inquiries were never so easily quelled. "What about the resistances? Does Amshel really think it is wise to remain there longer than we already have? When I was involved in the war, we never would have taken such foolish chances."

Annoyed, but far to placating to show it, Solomon smiled and resorted to inspecting his nails. "Amshel and Martin have both informed me that the French resistance, to which I assume you were previously referring, has practically given up. They hold no threat to us, James."

His brother appeared content, scoffing with a haughty laugh, and leaned back. He crossed his arms and eyes Solomon with an expectant sneer.

"I guess I am not surprised, given how easily they abandoned their country to the Germans."

Solomon nodded, no longer gracing James with his eye contact. He had no desire to discuss war, or France.

But James continued. "I hear that half of their citizens completely abandoned the war effort and the resistance. Ha! Most of their women have already secured a German husband to protect their promiscuous little asses."

Solomon, never one to encourage confrontation, allowed his irritated aura to spread willingly around both himself and James.

"The French are nothing but pathetic cowards. Their women, as well are their country, will do anything for money."

As though there was nothing wrong with the question, James asked innocently, "Wasn't your mother French, Solomon?"

The elder chevalier made no attempt to hide the dangerous glint in his eye when he answered, with his own perfect smile, "Yes, as a matter of was, she was."

"Hmph," James retorted, grimacing condescendingly at the thought. "It's hard to imagine, someone like you being bread out of some dirty French slut. Honestly, the pathetic whore must have—"

And that was the last word James was able to voice before Solomon found himself lunging across the table, roaring with more ferocity than it had in years,

"_DON'T YOU DARE TALK THAT WAY ABOUT MY MOTHER!"_

Before he could really comprehend it, Solomon tackled James to the ground, using his superior battle experience and rage to pummel him thoroughly into the fine Carpet,

And then the sofa.

And then the wall.

He was briefly aware of Karl shouting a desperate, "Solomon, stop it!" but merely slammed his favorite younger brother away when he tried to intervene. Even when he came to his senses, Solomon did not deny his instincts to kick the fuck out of James, whether it be his chiropteran aggression, or human impulse.

Only when a painfully familiar presence entered the room, a lightning-hot chill ran down his spine.

"_Solomon."_

Solomon instantly stopped mid-punch, eyes wide with surprise and fear.

Amshell.

His older brother, peering down at him; emotions, as always, unreadable. But Solomon could feel the low rumbling in the air, and braced himself for the full force of Amshel's anger.

He felt himself thrown from the scruff of his neck from the room, his body crashing through the door and landing painfully against the hall. Amshel barked at Karl to take James away, and he was towering over Solomon's crumpled body before Solomon could unclench his muscles from the impact.

Amshel grabbed his throat, and pulled him up until he was at eye level with his older brother. Holding his neck with the intensity that would instantly crush a human windpipe, Amshel once again slammed his brother into the wall, and the entire house shook.

"A-Amshel," Solomon choked out, his feel dangling several inches from the floor due to the former's greater height. "I'm sorry. But he was saying awful things…I…I don't know what happened—Suddenly I couldn't control myself and I…"

Amshel's eyes narrowed, and Solomon felt the painful blow as the backhand of Amshel's hand collided with his cheek. Amshel's fist tightened around Solomon's throat before finally releasing him.

"After everything she has given you, you _dare_ fight in Diva's presence. And for the honor of you human mother no less. _How shameful_."

Somewhere inside of him, Solomon still felt the need to object, but his voice was silenced before he opened his mouth by the ice-cold look in Amshel's eyes as he stared down at his younger brother. Solomon had never been looked at by Amshel in such a way, and the only thing that snapped him out of his trance was the stifled snob from the broken doorway.

Solomon's face trembled in regret. "Diva…"

Amshel grabbed a fistful of Solomon's hair and brought his face to his. "I never expected you to be pathetically sensitive Solomon. _Diva,_ is your mother. She is our mother, as well as our lover. _Remember that_. I will not tolerate insubordination, especially from you."

And with that, Amshel was gone, leaving only the broken Solomon, and the broken Diva.

That night, when she called upon him, he held her close, closer that he ever remembered her allowing him. But it still didn't last long, and she shook him off after only seconds. Solomon wanted nothing more than to be like his other brothers, like Karl and James, who never looked back upon their human lives at all, who never smiled at even the more pleasant memory, and who lived for nothing but Diva.

But no matter how hard he tried to forget, Solomon remained painfully aware that he was nothing more than a toy to Diva. And after that day, he realized that he was nothing but a toy to Amshel, too.

And then…There was Saya.

When Amshel promised her to him, he tried desperately not to hope that things would get better. Amshel told him that Saya would love him forever, and fulfill the desires that Diva wasn't capable of, but he was afraid to believe it. He was afraid to believe there could be a normal life after all of the strife he had encountered in the chiropteran world, but still, there was still a shred of hope that one day, he and the mysterious Saya would fall in love, that she would love him, bare his daughters for him, and the fact that Diva was fickle and Amshel was cruel would me a long-forgotten memory.

And when he met her at the ball…even though he was supposed to kill her…he began wanting it more and more every day.

And finally Diva called him on it.

It was in his beloved queen's final active period, after Saya had made her choice to fight them clear and he had already betrayed Diva a few timed to protect her. He had just flown into London, and visited the countryside manor that she was currently housed in. If he recalled correctly, it was just after the incident at Christina Island, where he was tricked into giving Saya the incorrect information, proving his disloyalty to Amshel for the very first time.

She was still so beautiful, even though at that point, Amshel's experiments and pressure had caused her mental state to deteriorate. Diva had begun spending weeks at a time alone, then acting as though nothing happened, her hot and cold attitude causing James and Karl more than one mental breakdown. Her pregnancy began to be the only thing on her mind, and with Karl and James out of the picture thanks to Saya, she looked to Solomon for comfort on the very few occasions she left her room.

But this time, somehow, it felt different. She kissed him, passionately, for the first time in decades. Diva stripped playfully, pulling Solomon on top of her, giggling happily as his fingers and mouth explored, with renewed fervor, every inch of her flawless skin, so milky and soft that it could have belonged to any of the dolls that lay broken on the floor.

She rarely allowed him to remain on top, preferring instead to take control herself before tossing him aside. But Diva smiled and moved rhythmically with him atop her, groaning and clenching his hair in fits of passion, until, mid-thrust, she looked him deeply, smiling cruelly,

"Are you thinking of Saya, Solomon?"

He stiffened, and a chill ran through his entire body, and into Diva's. His body, in spite of his mind's inner turmoil and surprise, continued the rhythmic motions, and Solomon attempted to play off his momentary hesitation.

He purred into her neck, his fingers pinching her raised nipple. "You shouldn't say such crazy things, Diva." Solomon's fangs reached her ear and he nibbled it. "You know I only care for you."

She appeared satisfied with his answer, and didn't object when he began kissing her deeply.

Solomon would later remember that kiss to be the very last between them, and his most passionate before he began courting Saya years later. He wondered, in those sweet moments that their lips convened, if Diva wished the same thing that he had wished for months: that these feelings he was having for Saya—the very thing that had been slowly chipping away at the already-breaking bond with his own queen, would simply vanish. But he sensed, as both her lips retreated, that they both knew they wouldn't.

It seemed fitting that the very last time he was accepted into her bed, was the first time Diva allowed him to stay afterwards. Over the last century, after each of their hundreds of sexual encounters, she dismissed him shortly after he climaxed. It wasn't until years later that Solomon realized it was because Diva had always wanted to enjoy the sex with her willing chevaliers, but the years of rape by Amshel and the yearning for children that he and the others couldn't produce, had left her apathetic about…everything.

Solomon laid his head down onto her chest, drinking in the warmth of his queen. He was directly next to Diva, his arm wrapped around her slender waist, his legs so long compared to her slender body that his knee almost touched her ankle. He sighed, nestling into her chest, when he felt her drape her arm his torso, petting him gently.

"Amshel says you can't be trusted anymore," Diva said casually, emotions unreadable. "He says you told Saya where I was, and you would let her kill me."

Solomon was very aware that he took too much time to answer. He said finally, honestly, "I would never wish harm upon you, Diva."

"What about Saya? I want to kill my big sister."

"…I would never wish harm upon her, either."

It was probably the longest a real discussion had ever lasted between them. Nothing ever held Diva's interest for very long, as Solomon was all too aware. "Amshel told me that I could only make babies with sister Saya's chevaliers, and now I get to have Riku's babies. He told me once that since that's how we reproduce, my chevaliers may fall in love with her instead. He said that that's why Karl died, and why you aren't good anymore."

Solomon closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "I suppose that's true."

Diva didn't reply, and instead occupied herself by twirling her ebony hair between her fingers.

"You really can't do it?" Solomon began, pleading. He felt much like a child begging his mother for a later curfew. "You really can't stop this war? Please, Diva, it's not too late—you're family; we can all live together, if you just—"

He was cut off by Diva's hysterical laughter. Solomon sat up, watching her as she rolled around, giggling, in her thick cobweb of hair.

"You're so stupid, Solomon," she chuckled, leaping from the bed and dancing around. "My big sister hates _me_ more than I hate _her_! Besides," her face was deceptively calm,

"what do _you_ care, anyway, Solomon? _You're _my_ chevalier, aren't you?_"

She pulled him from the bed, until he was on his knees before her. Solomon nodded, whispering an affirmative, "yes."

"Oh, Solomon," she sighed, twirling around him, her pattern not unlike a hawk circling it's prey. "You've always been my favorite; so east, so fun and pretty. You're the best doll I ever had, Solomon—don't ruin it by going off and playing house with Saya."

She leaned down, her hair tickling his still naked torso. He expected a kiss, but instead felt the sharp prick of her fangs against his neck, and she retreated only when he gave a visible shudder.

"Diva, I—"

"Go." She was already back on the canopied bed, her back turned towards him. "I'm done. I don't want to play with you anymore."

Solomon dressed instantly, and stared at her for a few moments. The light from the moon outside shone brightly through the giant windows, and he could see her graceful silhouette.

"I will always love you, Diva," Solomon said quietly, before bowing, and left without another word.

He only saw her three more times after that, and none of them he wished to remember. The next time he saw Diva was a little over a month later, when he renounced his title as her chevalier and switched his allegiance to Saya. Then he rescued his new queen from Diva and Amshel at the concert. And finally…he went to kill her, after Saya had rejected him, and he saw it as the only way to redeem himself.

_The last time I saw you, Diva, I tried to kill you._

In Solomon's strange in-between dream state, he had to wonder if maybe, she would forgive him someday. Maybe, in her last moments of consciousness, she thought of him, and instead of thinking of his betrayal, remembered his promise: that he would love her forever.

No matter how much he loved Saya, and it was _so much_, Solomon would always have a special place in his heart, just for Diva. He hoped she found solace in that, as she watched them from heaven.

Because, no matter what harm she did on Earth, a woman who was put through everything like Diva was deserves at least an eternity of happiness.

* * *

Saya wasn't surprised to find Solomon asleep when she woke up in the morning. After everything that had happened the night before, she was tempted to join him in slumber for another few hours hours, but found the rumbling in her stomach too much too ignore.

It was already almost noon when she woke up, so she didn't feel guilty about eating a heavy meal for lunch. Saya wasn't surprised that the fridge and freezer were fully stocked—Solomon probably had a housekeeper come every week to keep the place dusted and tidy, and to restock the fresh food in case the house's master decides to visit.

Fresh meat, steak, vegetables…She decided to combine all of her favorites into an okonomiyaki, her favorite dish from back home. As she chopped the steak, she recalled making it a few times at Solomon's apartment (though it was her apartment now, too) back in New York. It was probably the only Japanese dish she cooked anymore—her tastes were growing more western by the minute, her body probably remembering her French upbringing.

Honestly, she was surprised it didn't bother her more, that she seemed to be changing subtly under Solomon's influence. But Saya found herself almost relishing it; her body had done nothing but crave him and his lifestyle since she arrived, and she was finally acknowledging it.

Solomon was awake by the time she finished preparing her food.

"You're up early," she teased.

Solomon chuckled under his breath, walking up behind her and wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

"How is my lovely fiancée doing today?" He said it casually, but kissed the top of her head when she blushed. However, he didn't give her time to answer, and added, "That smells good, sweetheart."

"Does it?" she laughed. She flipped it from the frying pan to the plate, and Solomon handed her a knife and fork with a knowing smile, before she had to try and find the silverware drawer herself.

"As good as food can to someone who doesn't need it, I suppose," he answered. Saya had already begun eating when he joined her at the table, with a glass of blood for each of them.

She had become quite used to Solomon playfully staring at her, especially because he knew it made her blush and he therefore did it often to tease her, but her chevalier was looking at her with a very peculiar expression—bemused, yet thoughtful.

"What?" she asked, meeting his gaze.

"Do you like cooking?" He answered her question with another, and he looked genuinely curious.

She wiped her mouth with a napkin. "You know I do. I mean, I don't l_ove_ it; I'm not a great chef like Kai, but it's not terrible. Why?"

Solomon took a sip before responding. "I was thinking of hiring a chef. You know, for after the wedding, after everything is all settled. What do you think?"

Saya looked at him quizzically. "I don't think that's necessary. We're both busy, sure, now that I'm working at editing stuff for Catherine and her friends, but I don't mind cooking." She laughed, "Besides, we go out to eat for every other meal, our chef would get really bored!"

Solomon laughed, "Yes, that's true." He cleared his throat, "But, actually, I meant for…_after_ all of this is over. We've talked about it before, but, I really think we shouldn't stay in New York much longer after the wedding. Even though I'm sure Red Shield will finish the mission very shortly, I think it's best if we relocate sooner rather than later. I don't think they'll stop searching for you any time soon."

Saya didn't like the thought of leaving her new friends or their life behind, but she had to agree that he had a point. "You're right. It's better safe than sorry, right?"

Solomon nodded. "Right."

"Well, what did you have in mind, about our…you know…" She couldn't bring herself to finish, though Solomon seemed to have no trouble discussing their death-to-be.

"I suppose during our honeymoon would be the best bet," he sighed. Saya would never cease to be amazed at his bluntness when it came to human matters. "Maybe a fire or something. Or maybe a strange illness and then find a crooked doctor to help us out—I definitely know my share, in case our medicine cabinet wasn't a clue."

"What about faking a kidnapping or going missing?"

Solomon shook his head. "I've thought about that, but the CIA would to everything to rescue us, or at least find our bodies. With everything that I know, it would be too easy to flee the country and sell my intel, under the guise of a kidnapping."

Saya nodded, letting the information sink in. It really would be better to start over after the wedding. If something happened to them now, it would be too suspicious, especially with the Red Shield still operating in the Middle East, but their honeymoon would be the perfect excuse. How many newlyweds traveled abroad without being immunized? And how many innocent lovers had accidently left a candle burning next to the curtains after a romantic night of married bliss?

It would be easy, if not a bit depressing. Solomon seemed to sense her feelings.

"I suppose it's a bit of an ominous discussing, to have only 2 days after our engagement." He said it with a wry smile, and cupped her hand in his. When Saya smiled back at him, he kissed her hand, before looking at her almost meekly.

Saya squinted suspiciously at him as she took a sip, waiting for him to continue, which he eventually did.

He began almost awkwardly—_almost_. "I feel a bit strange asking you this after we've just practically planned our demises, but I can't seem to help myself." He paused. "Have you any thoughts about a date, for our wedding?"

Saya found herself laughing, and then enjoying the look on Solomon's face when he didn't get what was so funny.

"Solomon, we only got engaged a couple days ago," she began, giggling quietly. "I haven't really thought about it. Besides, you know I'm not really into planning things like that—I didn't even plan any of the arrangements back in Okinawa."

Solomon pouted slightly. "But you're excited, right, sweetheart?"

She smiled at Solomon's innocent question. Lately, he seemed almost unsure of himself, something that Saya was very surprised to see. After all, wouldn't he be more confident now, since she finally agreed to marry him?

But maybe that was what endeared her so much about Solomon. Although he was by no means proud of it, he didn't hide his vulnerable side around her, and that was a side Saya had never been able to wrestle out of Haji, not really. He would never directly hide his feelings from her, but when Saya could feel real pain, real sorrow eating her first chevalier from the inside out, Haji would deny their existence, smiling instead, telling her not to worry about him.

"You know I'm excited," she said, standing from her seat at the large kitchen table and plopping down happily on his lap. "I've been thinking about it, and I'm glad you want a big wedding. I'd be kind of surprised if you didn't. Besides, we'll be going out with a bang, it'll be fun."

Solomon purred into her neck in agreement. "You know, I'm going all out. I've already started planning and I'm not letting you lift a finger for it."

She laughed and nodded, relieved that her chevalier didn't expect her to make the arrangements herself. After everything that happened between her and Haji, she was more than happy to marry Solomon, but the gusto of planning for married life still left a bad taste in her mouth.

The conversation continued as she washed the dished from her lunch, even though Solomon tried to get her to let him do them.

"Do you have a date in mind?"

Solomon crossed his legs casually and finished of his glass. "I was thinking March 18th."

Saya sensed something in his tone. "Is there some significance to that day?"

"It was my mother's birthday," Solomon replied softly, closing his eyes. She wondered if he was imagining what it would be like if his mother would somehow be able to attend.

"That sounds great, then." She dried her hands on a dishtowel. They had only been engaged for two days, and she and Solomon were already making such progress. It was really starting to sink in that Saya, the chiropteran queen, was going to marry her sister's last remaining chevalier, just as nature had intended.

"I didn't think you would agree so easily," Solomon chuckled, lifting her up to sit her on the countertop, so that she was just above eye level with him, a move he did quite often when they were at home.

Saya felt somewhat offended. "It's your mother's birthday, Solomon. Why would I have a problem with that?"

He kissed her hands. "I simply would have expected you to lobby for more time."

"It's a pretty long engagement, though. Some couples have really long engagement periods, I guess, but I never thought you'd be the type to wait over a year."

Saya felt Solomon smile as he kissed her neck. "Try a month," he whispered.

"But you said March 18th…" she trailed off as her blonde lover began kissing her mouth, while his hand gently crawled under the hem of her skirt.

"That's next month, darling," Solomon cooed as he hooked her legs around him. "I know we said we'd wait and take our time, but I don't think I can wait to marry you…"

Saya attempted to pull away from their embrace, but his other arm was wrapped around her and he smiled playfully when she stared at him, in shock.

"But that's only a month and a half away!"

Solomon merely hummed into her ear, nibbling it. "Mmhhmm, there's the reaction I was expecting."

"I—I don't really think that's enough to…" Saya had wanted o continue, but her argument was slowly losing steam, as Solomon's fingers began walking up and down the sensitive skin in between her legs.

"Leave everything to me," Solomon blew into her ear, "All you have to do is find a dress."

Just as Saya began aching for him to take her right there in the kitchen, he retreated slightly, leaving a surprised and agitated Saya on the countertop.

"Now that we've eaten and settled that, let's go back into town. There was this vintage ruby bracelet I saw in the window of that antique store I walked past yesterday; it matches your eyes perfectly and I am kicking myself for not buying it for you.

Saya, still sitting frozen on the counter, hair ruffled and dress almost entirely undone, managed a very irritated. "Solomon…!"

He looked back at her innocently, but there was a glint in his eye that informed the young queen that he knew what she wanted.

"God, don't be such a fucking tease!" She lunged at him, tackling him down to the hard wooden floor. Solomon must have been quite used to their rough foreplay by now. She pinned him down, only to be flipped around, with Solomon cockily holding her hands above her head, her back to the ground.

"Are you sure, Saya? We'll be married in a matter of weeks. If there's any time to take a vow of abstinence until marriage, it would be now."

For the first time in their relationship, Saya found herself giving him a compliment without blushing, though would later claim it to be the hormones talking.

"Solomon, if God wanted us to wait to have sex until marriage, he wouldn't have made you so good at it."

And that was that.

* * *

Sonomi had only been in love once. His name was Nick, and they met when she was 21, when Kai and Joel sent her and Aoko abroad and away from home for the first time. He was her first and only kiss.

When she and Aoko found it time to leave Australia, Nick promised to keep in touch, and Sonomi promised the same. He kissed her, just as she was leaving for the airport.

Kai informed her, upon their return, that under no circumstances was she ever to contact him again.

Being a chiropteran queen had never bothered Sonomi up until that moment. In fact, Kai and Haji and raised her and sister with such kindness and sensitivity towards the subject, that although she was constantly aware that she was different, Sonomi only found real sadness when she realized that the friends she had made over the years would die within the blink of an eye.

But that day, she realized that maybe a life without love made it a little sad, too.

After Saya had awoken, Sonomi had tried to ask her fellow red queen about it. Didn't it hurt? Didn't it kill her that everyone she used to know, will be dead the next time you wake up?

But Saya couldn't understand, not really. Her aunt had been raised as a human, after all, and was actually encouraged to fall in love and experience normal emotions. But Sonomi and Aoko were always completely aware of their heritage, and their expectations and obligations to the world.

No fame. No love. No public sports. No blood.

Nothing that could ever incriminate them.

No chevaliers. Ever.

_Lest this cycle begin once again,_ Haji had explained.

Her mother, Diva, had almost destroyed the world because of the actions of her chevaliers. Dr. Julia had been quite blunt, when she explained the chiropterans were a species that were intended to be the next evolutionary step in humanity. But something had gone wrong—the world wasn't ready for them, and they died out.

It was only because of the actions of a cruel and selfish man, Joel Goldschmidt the first, that they were brought back from death's door, and left to wreak havoc on the world.

If it hadn't been for Saya, humanity as they knew it would have been obliterated decades ago.

It wasn't as though Sonomi resented being a casualty of war. Of course, there were times that she lamented never being able to create a lifelong partner, but she was born with one.

Saya couldn't empathize very well with Sonomi because she had made chevaliers, but one thing Sonomi had that Saya didn't, was a sister.

Sonomi would always have Aoko.

But still, there were so many questions she still had; questions that even Saya did not have the answers to. Who will awaken us if we have no chevaliers? Will Aoko and I always remain poisonous to each other if we never have children?

It wasn't until the final weeks of the mission, it the very first days of February, that Sonomi was given the answers.

In the form of her grandmother's flamboyant chevalier.

* * *

Haji watched from his crouched attack position and Kai held his gun steadily. Surely with Kai's marksmanship, the potent bullets loaded into his trusted pistol, and Haji's speed, they could take him down if they needed to.

Nathan Mahler stood in their doorway, his hip cocked casually to the side. His expression was so aloof that he could have been discussing the weather.

"Trigger-happy as ever I see, Kai," Nathan chuckled, running his hands through his messy cornflower hair. "The years have treated you well. You, too, Haji."

"Saya killed you," Haji snapped. "You shouldn't be alive."

Nathan looked a little agitated. "I'll explain everything, if you really don't get it, but I didn't come here to chat—not with you two anyway."

Haji could feel Kai's irritation building, and just as he was about to question his fellow chevalier, he felt two soft new presences come into the room.

He was surprised to see Nathan's face soften, and a genuine smile spread across his lips when the twins curiously entered.

"There they are," he whispered gently.

Kai roared protectively. "Sonomi! Aoko! Get out of here now! This is…Diva's…"

Haji watched as Kai's voice slowly lost momentum, and was himself enthralled with what he saw before him.

The air in the room seemed to clear, and his nieces stared at Nathan with astonishment. Even though he was only Saya's chevalier, Haji could sense that there was a bigger connection between the tiny princesses and the older chevalier that neither he nor Kai expected.

Suddenly they ran towards him, into Nathan's waiting arms. Sonomi and Aoko seemed to be somewhere between laughing and sobbing, and he smiled and patted their heads, cooing and reassuring them.

Haji couldn't help but feel…at peace with Nathan being there. It appeared that the twins seemed biologically drawn to him, though Haji had no idea why.

Kai did not seem to share Haji's sentimental view.

"What the fuck are you doing, Nathan!" Kai shouted, lifting his gun once again and stepping closer to his old foe. "You have ten seconds to get away from my daughters!"

Before Nathan could reply, both the girls' heads popped up.

"Wait, Dad!" Aoko stammered, "Please!"

Before Kai could respond, or the twins could object further, Nathan cleared his throat, and stepped in front of the twins slowly.

His face was a picture of understanding and peace. Haji felt for some reason that he looked rather old.

"Kai," Nathan began slowly. His tone no longer had any hint of cockiness and his playful attitude was all but forgotten.

"We both knew this day would come. I'm here to help you finish the mission, and now that it's almost complete, I've come to tell Diva's daughters the truth. You're happy lives together couldn't last forever."

Kai gritted his teeth as he leaned over the balcony's edge. He cracked his knuckles impatiently, just like he used to when anxiety crept in during the Red Shield's raids on chiropteran nests in New York.

God, how long had it been since he's done that?

Haji was only a few feet away, standing stoically, as always.

"They fuckin' ran to him, Haji," Kai sighed, letting his shoulders droop.

Haji sighed, too. "Perhaps it's to be expected. They must have sensed that he was their mother's chevalier. Or rather…"

"Yeah, yeah," Kai muttered. "I heard him, too."

When Nathan had arrived hours earlier, the twins had stopped him from killing him, or at least trying to. Kai only knew Nathan as one of Diva's chevaliers from during the war 30 years ago—one of many that Saya had killed. Saya and Haji had seen it with their own eyes.

But after laying out the situation, Kai and Haji came to the same startling conclusion: Haji and Saya had seen him slashed through, but had never seen him _crystallize_…

Haji kept his eyes on the horizon. "I can't believe that Saya's mother's chevalier is still alive…after all of this time…"

Kai knew the story that all members of the Red Shield knew. The original _Saya_ was a mummy purchased by Joel Goldschmidt back in the 1800s. It resembled a beast never before seen in nature, and Joel purchased it in hopes of discovering a new species. He was successful, and after realizing that the beast was pregnant at the time of her death, cut out 2 cocoons from her belly, and resuscitated them by accidently spilling blood onto their shells.

The babies that emerged from the cocoons were physically identical to humans. Joel took one to live with him as his daughter, and named her Saya, after the original mummy. The other one was left to live in a cell with only the barest of all necessities to live. He gave it no name, but she was later named Diva, after Saya had discovered her one day while exploring the grounds. They both remained ignorant of their relationship as twins until…

Saya unlocked the door to Diva's cell. They had been alive for more than 40 years, but still retained the physical forms of young women. While Saya left the door unlocked, she went exploring with Haji, and eventually, and unwittingly, made him her first chevalier. Diva, now free to roam the grounds, massacred everyone in sight, including all of the guests at the birthday party that was currently being held for Joel. It is assumed that Diva had turned Amshel into her first chevalier before this occurred. After seeing Joel being killed by Diva, Saya swore to eliminate the evil that she had unleashed upon the world.

And thus, the war began.

Diva eventually accumulated many chevaliers, and several experiments were conducted to create artificial chevaliers, which included the Corpse Corps and the Schiff. However, only five chevaliers had a profound impact in the war between the Red Shield and Saya.

They were Amshel Goldsmith, Solomon Goldsmith, Karl Fei-ong, James Ironside, and Nathan Mahler.

However, as Nathan explained, he had been a chevalier long before he joined Diva's side. For hundreds of years, in fact.

Kai couldn't believe it. But as he sat with Sonomi and Aoko on the couch, Nathan directly across from him sitting casually on a kitchen chair, he sensed no fiction from his claim. Kai had turned to Haji for confirmation, and he nodded quickly.

Nathan was indeed telling the truth.

_Evolution in a funny thing_, Nathan had explained, chuckling. _As effective and helpful as natural selection is, sometimes it really isn't survival of the fittest._

_Sometimes, the weak don't want to share the world. Sometimes, they get scared, and the world turns against you._

_It's no surprise that Amshel and Diva's plan had the long-term goal of turning the whole world into chiropterans. After seeing everything that a chevalier and queen are capable of doing, do you really think that humans and chiropterans were meant to co-exist?_

_I don't know when chiropterans first evolved, and strayed from what would become the normal genome. But it must have been some time early, probably when hair and skin color were beginning to adapt. I mean, their civilization had been around for thousands of years when I was created, and that was ages ago…_

_Things were so…different; it's so hard to explain. There were chiropteran colonies all over the world, just like there were humans'. But you know how it was back then—there were no means of travel, no technology, everything was isolated, and each culture and colony expanded and grew apart from each other._

_Maybe it started out as a gene mutation; it must have, right? Nobody knows for sure. But our kind thrived just as other civilization did. We grew and evolved just like humans did, and the world grew with us._

_By the time I was created, things had already gotten bad. Most new species are created when a genetic mutation causes the new generation to become superior to the previous one. Chiropterans were intended to become the next step in human evolution, but there wasn't enough time for us to grow and develop. By the time chiropterans had become the form and genetic code you've come to recognize, the world had already rejected us._

_I suppose it's just easier to say that we're a genetic mutation that never caught on, even though we were supposed to. If you look around at hominid fossils from all over the world, you'll see a plethora of variants of the human skeleton, even after the human's we recognize today had already evolved. These colonies must have been similar to ours: they broke off from the human genome while it was still evolving, and it soon became inferior. Therefore, they all died out, leaving only humans._

_And what was left of chiropterans._

_Even though we were superior in so many ways, it soon became clear that humans were the chosen line of evolution. I suppose it makes sense, if you think about how things worked in the early world; humans reproduced quickly, and their large population needed space. Chiropterans reproduce more slowly, and we needed chevaliers, and the humans to make them. Perhaps we would have evolved past the need to create them from humans, and maybe everyone would be born a chevalier ready for the chiropteran world, but it never got that far._

_By the time the plague hit Europe, it was over. The blood we needed to survive was in short supply, and it had become dangerous to feed even on farm animals. All over the world, folklore and fairy tales had turned against us, and our colonies could no longer survive, let alone thrive._

_To be honest, Joel Goldschmidt pretty much gave nature a big middle finger, and brought back a species that was not meant to exist in this world. It's like some kind of sick joke._

_And it really is almost a joke, that my queen happened to be the one that Joel cut open. The very last chiropteran queens came from the bloodline of probably the worst example chiropteran pair in the world._

_I loved your grandmother. She once told me that she fell in love with me when I was a human, back when the renaissance was still in the works. It was forbidden to randomly select a mate or chevalier that way—chiropterans were almost extinct by then, it was necessary to be safe and cautious if you wanted to survive._

_What you normally did, if you were a chiropteran queen, was if there was a man you really wanted as a mate, and your sister had not created any chevaliers yet, you were supposed to have her change him for you, so you could sire children with him, and have the line continue. However, if you both already had chevaliers, you were to have them mate with the other sister._

_And my queen didn't have any chevaliers yet, but her sister apparently did. It turned out that my queen had refused to mate with any of her sister's chevalier, successfully winning her the ire of what was left of our chiropteran colony. Technically, they could have forced her to, exiled her or something, but queens were scarce, and if she left, then they would lose two possible sets of queen: her daughters, and her sisters'._

_When my queen begged her sister to change me, her sister refused, angry that my queen had never created a chevalier for her sister to mate with. So my queen said fuck it, and changed me herself._

_But my queen wanted children. It wasn't just society's pressure on her that made her crave daughters—she loved children. That's the reason she refused to mate with any of her sisters' chevaliers; she did not want to have her children be a reminder of something she was forced to do._

_Pretty romantic, huh?_

_Ironically, she did end up having to mate with one of her sister's chevaliers to get pregnant with Saya and Div. So after all of the trouble and bullshit we had to go through, she had fuck another man, but it was worth it because we pretty much screwed the entire community, too._

_From what she told me, my queen and her sister had been fighting for years. And as I'm sure you have all learned after comparing Aoko and Sonomi, to Saya and Diva, queens aren't supposed to fight, they're supposed to get along, they're supposed to be pretty much inseparable, even though their blood can kill one another. When my queen refused to create chevaliers without a connection to them, it only slightly annoyed her sister. But it seems that society's constant pressure and scrutiny drove her sister to desperation, almost insanity, and she created dozens of chevaliers to try and get her sister to come around. When my queen refused to give in, her sister never forgave her._

_We lived together, outside of the colony. Not too far, but far enough to escape their glares and expectations. One day, my queen walked into town, and by nightfall, she came back home, pregnant._

_I'll make this simple, as a side note. It's practically impossible to turn down a queen when she propositions you, which is another reason we lived away from the colony, so her sister couldn't find me and try anything. But she apparently tracked down one of her sister's chevaliers, convinced him to impregnate her, and came home. I didn't want to be jealous, but of course I was; I loved her more than anything. She never told me who it was, and we left that night, leaving the community almost barren._

_We both knew chiropterans were going to die out, but we had hoped to be able to settle into another colony before our children were born. We had at least hoped that there would be a few generations left, before we were wiped out for good._

_But we searched everywhere—we would have searched the whole world if we could. But we were growing weaker by the day, and by the time we reached Iceland, there were probably no more chiropteran colonies left._

_She was able to keep the children in her belly for so long, only because our food supply was so little. Luckily, chiropteran gestation doesn't have a set time period, and it allowed her to deter them from being born until conditions got better._

_I never should have left her. We were finally able to settle in a cave just outside of a small fishing village. I left her there for her safety, while I fed on the townsfolk, so that she could simply feed on me when I returned. But when I came back, she was nowhere to be found._

_The townspeople must have noticed faster than we expected, and waited until I left to attack her. She was so weak by that point; she must have had to morph into her full chiropteran form to escape quickly enough. In the end, though, they found her, and killed her._

_She didn't even have enough energy to fly away…but she tried, and that is why she was in the form that she was when Joel found her._

_I never realized her children could have survived. Saya and Diva must have been completely done growing, and their cocoons kept them safe for over 200 years, until they were awaked by blood._

_After I mourned, I tried to locate our old colony, but there was nothing left. It had been only a few years, but there was no trace of them. There was nothing. I must have been the last chevalier every created, until Haji and Amshel were changed hundreds of years later._

_My queen had told me that she wanted me to live, no matter what happened. She said that even if we were separated and never again found one another, we were to continue living, so I did. I never expected to encounter my love's children so many years later._

_I was aware that Joel had revived Saya and Diva, only after the war between them had started. Even though I am a chiropteran, they were not my children and I could not sense their unique presence. When I felt a slight chiropteran existence back then, I assumed that maybe it was another chevalier or even a new queen—but I was half a world apart, living in South America, and I had long-since given up tracking down the last of my kind._

_By the time I sensed Haji and Amshel along with Saya and Diva, I was too later, and the war started. I tried not to get involved; there were so many times that it seemed that Saya and Diva would settle things, or at least destroy each other quietly._

_But when Amshel and Diva's new chevaliers became involved in World War 2, and he began manipulating Diva into poisoning the world, I knew it was time to step in, and I knew what side I needed to be on._

_I'll be honest, and I know you won't like what I'm about to say, but I was fully content to let Diva turn the world into a chiropteran nest. If the plan had gone seamlessly, it would be Saya and Diva, along with their chevaliers, with no humans. As long as Saya and Diva were happy, I was satisfied. _

_However, the plan changed. It became complicated, and Amshel's manipulation of Diva finally went too far. Diva snapped under Amshel's pressure, and gave him full reign once she was pregnant. She no longer cared whether he sister lived or died, but once Diva became aware of Saya's plan to send all chiropterans, including her daughters, back into history, she resolved to kill her._

_But I knew that given the chance, Saya would be able to change her mind, and allow Diva's daughters to live. Saya had grown up normally, with a family, and would do the right thing._

_And that's why I didn't tell Diva that her blood lost it's potency once she became pregnant…_

"It's pretty mind blowing," Kai stated, sighing, "to think that he's been alive so long. I guess it kinda makes sense, though; he never really seemed that interested in what Amshel and those guys were doing."

Haji nodded. Kai took a deep breath, and looked at his sister's chevalier.

"Nathan pulled me aside, and he told me that the twins are gonna start their hibernation soon."

Haji stiffened, and turned to Kai, looking startled.

"What?"

"Not too soon, he said. Just within the next year or so. He said he's been feeling it for a while now, waiting until it was the right time to show up."

Haji's eyes lowered sadly. "I see…"

Kai found the next sentence almost awkward to say. "He said, that it would be best to have a chevalier look after them, since humans are too mortal to watch over them for that long."

"I suppose he means Solomon or myself."

Kai ran his hands through his thinning hair. "Guess so. I can't help but wish that, you know, I could be there for them. I never really thought about the advantages of being a chevalier until my kids started growing up. Once Sonomi and Aoko stopped physically aging but kept on growing older, I guess it hit me that my daughters would outlive me. Geez, no parent wants to outlive their kid.

"Haji, do you think, maybe, that Saya would consider making me—"

The taller man cut him off, his voice deep and serious. There seemed to be a far-off danger in his voice.

"It's best not to think of these things now. We must focus on the mission."

Kai paused, allowing Haji's words to sink in.

"Yeah," he sighed. "You're right."

There was silence between them then. The only sound came from the muffled voices from inside the apartment, where Kai's beloved daughters continued to ask Nathan questions of the past, and of the future—one that Kai was scared he would never see with them.

* * *

Solomon was rather reluctant to allow Saya to explore the manor. She seemed to understand, though—Saya knew how sensitive a subject Diva was for him, and how being the only one of her chevaliers left affected him. She was very accommodating to his mood, and wandered through the rooms that used to house her sister in silence, only asking an occasional question when necessary.

There were boxes upon boxes of old photographs, file cabinets full of Amshel's old research, even detailed reports on each chevalier, complete with pictures of their human, and chiropteran forms, their strengths and weaknesses, and everything in between.

"When was the last time you were in this form?" Saya asked, holding up a picture of his file. She pointed to the photo of his grotesque chiropteran appearance.

He didn't answer immediately, focusing instead of skimming through the shelves of books he had stored here from Amshel's old rooms and studies, making a small stack of which to bring back to the apartment with them. Eventually, Solomon found himself answering her question with another one.

"Do you find me attractive, Saya?"

She giggled, rolling her eyes melodramatically. "Of course I do. I think everybody on the planet does."

Solomon scoffed quietly. "Well that's precisely why the last time I changed my form that way was during the war. I don't think I could ever stand myself if I ever changed again—it's a reminder of that thing I was when the war was going on; a hideous reminder."

He watched as Saya pouted slightly, cocking her head and looking at the picture again. "I don't think you were hideous Solomon. You saved my life many times thanks to that form. I think it's very natural, you shouldn't be ashamed."

Solomon smiled slightly as Saya continued to search through the boxes or storage, unaware that her comment had forced him to face his moral dilemma.

Moving up the date of the wedding, spiriting her away to this isolated manor, distracting her with non-stop sightseeing and his constant presence—of course he had wanted to do those things, but it would have been lying to say he hadn't done it in part by Haji's influence.

He was manipulating her, plain and simple. Solomon had always thought of himself as a respectful lover; sure, he teased her and played around with her sometimes to get his way, but he had never lied to her face, or kept the truth secret.

Except his love for her, which he did keep secret for months…But that was remedied and fixed now, wasn't it?

Being around Saya's kindness, and her complete acceptance, wracked Solomon's mind with shame. He knew that he was playing into Haji's hand, but Solomon had to do something, or else his guilt and insecurities would eat him alive.

"Saya," he began slowly, "Can I ask you something?"

She dusted off and examined a few of Nathan's old jazz records, placing one on the record player and started swaying to the rhythm. "Sure."

He walked over to her and placed one hand on the small of her back, leading her gently to the music, and stepped in time to the slow beat.

"What if…what if Haji was sorry?"

Saya stopped abruptly, but Solomon continued leading. He felt a rise within her. "What did you say?"

Solomon looked down at her, fully aware that his face wasn't attempting to mask his inner turmoil.

"What if Haji was sorry for sending you away? I know that it is must seem like a ridiculous question, but I have to confess…One of the reasons that I want the wedding to be so soon, and in fact the reason that I brought you up here so suddenly, was because I started wondering if maybe you were rushed into your choice, and I wanted to keep you away from anything that might change your mind about us.

"But what if Haji came back, and confessed that maybe he made some horrible mistake? You don't have to marry me, Saya. I want you to, of course, but it's very possible that Haji is still out there, hoping that you'll come back.

"tell me, What would you do if he wanted you back?"

Saya answered after a brief pause, and was very casual.

"I would kill him."

He chuckled at her response. He took it as a very good sign that she could be so lighthearted over the incident with Haji. If she could make jokes about it, then maybe she had healed faster than he had imagined.

"But, really…what would you do. You can be honest."

Saya looked up at him blankly. There was an unusual coldness in her voice.

"I would kill him. I really would; I wasn't joking. I hate him. If I ever saw him again, he would be dead."

Solomon stopped dead mid-step, and Saya seemed surprised by his shock.

She laughed a little. "Why so stunned? Were you expecting a different answer?"

He tried to regain his composure, and form him thoughts into words coherently. "It's…it isn't as though I expected a different response. I mean I'm happy you wouldn't go back to him…But, do you really hate him?"

Saya looked at him crossly. "After what he did, Solomon, I didn't think you'd be so surprised."

Solomon attempted to rephrase. "Well, of course you're entitled to be angry. He is truly someone that I hope we never see again.

"But, sweetheart, can you really say that you…_hate_ him? He is your chevalier, after all."

Solomon could not help but remember how it was with him and Diva, when he accompanied Nathan to their manor with the sole purpose of killing his queen.

_Diva knew I came to kill her. I even tried to kill her but was unable to. She had me at her mercy and still spared my life, and had Nathan imprison be in the cellar._

_Amshel was the one who wanted me dead. _

_Even after everything I did, she didn't kill or hate me._

But Saya did hate Haji; Solomon could feel her intensity radiating from her petite frame. It unnerved him, both because it seemed impossible for a queen to completely hate her own chevalier, and Solomon had always thought it was impossible to Saya to truly hate anyone.

Saya sighed and shrugged, seemingly at a loss. "To be honest, I'm kinda surprised I feel this way, too. I thought I was sort of over everything that happened between me and Haji, but the more I think about it, the angrier I get.

"it's like the longer we're together, and the happier I become with you, the harder it is to even remember what it was like being with him." She laughed, "My past with him is like a fog, just a bad dream."

Solomon acted charming and natural for the rest of the day, but the entire time, her words were echoing in his ears.

It was getting hard for her to remember…?

Saya and Solomon had become very close friends in the months preceding their relationship, and on more than one occasion, he had asked her about Haji. It was innocent enough, based more upon curiosity than jealousy, since at that point he believed he had no chance with her.

She always expressed happiness, sheer joy in their times together. Even though Solomon could sense a far-off sadness in her eyes (that he later realized was due to Haji abhorrent rejection of her), Saya had consistently described the details of their relationship, the good, and sometimes even the bad. And that had only been about 3 months ago…

But now, suddenly, Saya was beginning to slip away? She wasn't being metaphorical—Saya later explained that certain moments between her and Haji that she once shared with Solomon, had never really happened, or at least she couldn't remember them.

Was it really possible that Haji was truly leaving her memories? Did the trauma of his rejection finally take it's toll? Or—

It struck him as he laid awake next to Saya's precious, sleeping form in the earliest hours of the morning.

Was it his influence that was slowing erasing Haji from her memories?

He remembered Haji parting words perfectly.

_Her chiropteran heart may be a puppet on your string, but her human heart will always belong to me._

It didn't seem possible…But was his chiropteran bond with her clouding her judgment, and morphing her thought pattern to make him seem superior?

He, of course, knew he was a better match for Saya that Haji would ever be, but it didn't seem possible that his presence was having such a negative effect on her memories.

Except…it _was._

* * *

It was twilight, and the sun was almost finished setting over the sandy kills just outside of town. The research facility was located only 10 miles north of where she was standing, and Lulu could sense the faint presence of the last humans leaving.

She could also sense, that that was the last time she would ever see the sun.

She felt Louis walk up slowly behind her.

"You don't need to be out here, Lulu," he stated, sounding uncertain. His voice was gruff, but Lulu could here cautiousness through his thick accent. "Nathan said he would carry out the final stages of the mission. It's too dangerous for us, let's go."

The two of them were alone, and Lulu turned to face him. She could feel her face smiling sadly, and she didn't speak.

Louis sighed, shaking his head and staring at the ground. "You're going, aren't you?"

She nodded, looking again at the sky and the now-dark horizon.

"I already talked to Nathan. He'll explain it to the others. I thought I'd be able to, but I couldn't find the words…But, I think, that I'm really happy ending it this way—doing it for my friends. The mission will finally be over, and all you guys have to do is the clean up, and Saya, and all of the others, can finally be happy.

"It'll finally be all over."

She could feel Louis watching her, and she turned to him once again.

"You know, Louis, I've always felt like we've had a special bond. You took me under your wing after David and Julia got married, and I'm really thankful for that. David and Julia, Kai and the twins, Saya and Haji, Okumura and Mao…everyone got paired up, but we stayed the same. I'm really happy you've let me tag along."

Louis exhaled heavily. "You don't have to do this. Nathan might be able to make it out alive. You don't need to sacrifice yourself like this."

Lulu found herself chuckling, and rolled up her long sleeves until they were at her elbows. She heard Louis gasp as he spotted the red fissures completely covering her arm. She had never shown them to anyone else, and never planned to.

"I think Nathan must have sensed it, or something; he didn't question when I told him I'd be taking over.

"it's been a long time coming. I've known for a while that it was gonna start, but I'm so glad it was able to wait until we finished."

The technology that Saya's blood had created had extended her lifespan immensely. Lulu knew she had grown, just a little, and now resembled a petite human, in both body and spirit. Her time amongst the humans was priceless. But even still, her body was artificially created, and her time had finally run out.

Once the thorn appeared just under a month ago, it spread slowly, infecting her body from the inside out until Lulu could literally feel her life slipping away.

Nathan had given her the bombs and the instructions on where to place them. She had to be precise, but Lulu knew that she had just enough strength left to do it. Since the bombs were located in the heart of the facility, the alarms and security would be aware of her presence as soon as she entered.

She had 5 minutes to sneak in, place and detonate the bombs, before the security would apprehend her. The bombs were to be detonated by hand—if the security didn't kill her, the bombs would.

It was the definition of a suicide mission, but Lulu didn't mind.

She was strangely at peace.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," she confessed. "I knew it would make you sad."

Louis shook his head, smiling. "I understand. I know how it goes."

She nodded, and turned back towards the horizon, unable to face him any longer.

"Can you…Can you tell Saya and the others 'thank you' for me? I know Nathan will, but can you just make sure that they know how grateful I am? I want them to know how happy I was…"

"Sure," was all he said.

Lulu didn't know why she was about to say it to Louis, but she didn't have anyone else to tell it to. "The world…it really is moving on. There just isn't a place for chiropterans anymore. Maybe there never was. I can already feel it leaving me behind."

Louis sighed. "It does seem like the beginning of the end."

And it was.

* * *

A/N: It really is the beginning of the end. This is the first of the ending chapters.

I hope you all enjoyed the segments of Diva and the history of the other chevaliers. Even though I have the official novels, I may have gotten some of the dates and years wrong. Please excuse any miscalculations and typos.

This is story has always been about love, and the battle within Saya between Nature and Nurture.

It looks like we are going to find out which one wins…


	22. Goodbye: From me to you

**ATTENTION! PLEASE READ!**

My dear readers,

The time has come for me to say good-bye. As I said, I would finish this story by the end of June, or the beginning of July. I am keeping my promise.

I owe all of you an apology. I was not able to finish writing the chapters to completion, and to be honest, the past few chapters haven't really been up to my standards.

My situation has gravely changed. If any of you have been keeping up with my author's notes, you'll notice that my life has been going through many changes. However, one change has recently torn me apart: My mother has just been diagnosed with stage IV colon cancer. They have given her 9-12 months to live.

I'm not normally the type to throw the personal details of my family around, but I feel that after 3 years together, my readers hear deserve to know the real reason why I cannot continue writing. I sound a little dramatic, huh? Talking about this story like it's some huge big deal or something, it must seem kind of stupid. But this story has accompanied me through college, 7 boyfriends, 2 jobs, and 3 years this September, and it really means a lot to me.

But if my mother only has 9 months to live, I am not going to spend it writing fanfiction.

Thank you all so much for reading. I hope that my notes will satisfy you.

Please enjoy.

**Tell me part 3 (chapter 22)**

_Tell me that you want to dance  
I want to feel your pulse on mine  
Just treat me like a stolen glance  
To yourself_

_A dark shape on a golden floor_  
_A sleeping planet with a molten core_  
_From above we'd cut a slow eight shape_  
_And much more_

_I'm not afraid of anything_

_even time  
It'll eke away at everything but_

_we'll be fine  
_

*The chapter begins with Solomon sitting across from Abram in his office. Abram reads aloud Solomon's resignation, and can't believe that he is quitting. Solomon gently reminds him that he is giving him more than enough time to find a replacement, and Abram sighs, still upset, but is still grateful that Solomon worked for him. Solomon explains that he and Saya are still young, and plan on moving away to start a life together, and Abram smiles, saying he is excited to attend the wedding.

Saya and Solomon get their wedding pictures taken before the wedding, because they don't have groomsmen or a bridal party. Solomon begins agonizing over whether or not his chiropteran biology is influencing her or not, as she is beginning to agree with whatever he does, and no longer bickers with him at all, even when he does something that she used to hate. He eventually snaps before the wedding, grabbing her and asking why she loves him. She finds herself unable to answer, but simply says that loving him is enough, so why do the reasons matter? Solomon resolves to continue on with the wedding, convinced that he is too paranoid (even though she really is beginning to change pretty obviously).

For the wedding, they have a private ceremony (with just Abram and his wife and a few friends), and a big party for the reception. During the wedding—Abram recognizes Saya finally, because she decided to grow out her hair and the angle that he sees Saya at clicks in his head. Jefferson McCoy decides to come to show his respects, and Abram tries to hide the fact that it is Saya from him. Abram begins wondering whether or not to do something, because he knows Saya is a good person. No honeymoon—but they travel over the US and have fun, because Saya's face is known and she shouldn't be traveling. Solomon and Saya decide to not 'kill themselves' on their honeymoon, and decide to stick around New York for a while longer, before faking their death on a trip or something.

Abram struggles with Saya being who she is, and his team acknowledges that the Red Shield finished the mission in Egypt. Ends with red Shield returning to Okinawa and wondering why everything is back to normal, as if the Americans never knew Saya existed. Flashes back to before the wedding began, with Solomon once again worring that Saya is being consumed by her chiropteran instincts and is rushing into marrying him because of them (just like Haji says). But he loves her so much, he tries to ignore his fears and Haji's taunting words.

* * *

**Come back to me (chapter 23)**

_Never knew I could feel like this,_

_Like I've never seen the sky before._

_Want to vanish inside your kiss_

_Everyday I'm loving more and more._

_Listen to my heart—can you hear it sing?_

_Come back to me, and forgive everything_

_Seasons may change, winter to spring._

_I love you_

_Until the end of time._

* * *

* It starts with Saya walking alone around central part. While she gives no evidence why, she mentions that she's no longer with Solomon, and both of her wedding rings are gone forever. Haji, in Okinawa, feels instantly in his core that Saya's heart has been broken (though he doesn't reveal how) and flies to New York to meet her. She meets Haji and instantly she knows that she loves him, but before she can say anything, they are captured by Jefferson McCoy's team and taken to a research facility somewhere in Vermont. Haji rats out Solomon saying that Saya is no threat because she cannot create babies without Solomon (Saya is in another room being questioned, and Haji does not know that her reproductive period is over) so they should let her go and kill Solomon. Saya is taken away to yet another room to be killed, right after she and Haji confess their undying love for one another. Jefferson McCoy is waiting for her in that room.

It is revealed in this chapter why Jefferson McCoy is so intent on killing Saya: If you recall during the Vietnam arc in the series, one of the soldiers backing up Saya was names McCoy. That was Jefferson's cousin. It turns out that Jefferson's whole family was part of Red Shield, but he rejected it when his father was killed by a chiropteran in the Vietnam War. That chiropteran was Diva when she was wreaking havoc, but Jefferson, never joining Red Shield, did not realize that there were TWO chiropterans queens, and thought it was Saya.

When Saya and Jefferson are together and she is being tortured and questioned, Jefferson demands that she make her eyes glow blue. She has been deprived of blood for a very long time, and when Jefferson offers her some, they glow red, and he begins to crack. Saya reveals the history of Red Shield, and tells him that although she went crazy during Vietnam, it was months after Jefferson's father was killed, as Diva had begun massacring Vietnam troops for almost a year before she was forcefully awakened. Jefferson goes crazy, and repeated shoots her in the head, killing her.

* * *

**Tell me Part 4 (chapter 24)**

_You said I'm gonna buy a gun and start a war  
If you can tell me something worth fighting for  
Oh and I'm gonna buy this place is what I said  
Blame it upon a rush of blood to the head_

_Honey, all the movements you're starting to make_  
_See me crumble and fall on my face_  
_And I know the mistakes that I've made_  
_See it all disappear without a trace_

*Solomon tells Saya to leave the apartment. Have it start out with him in the living room alone with her ring at the present day, and then flashback to what happened. Maybe it shouldn't even be a flashback so much as it should be a lot of italicized memories of what happened earlier in the day, and him walking himself through it, so that the reader will know what is going on.

What basically happened was that Solomon realizes that Saya is no longer herself, and Saya herself is having trouble remembering how life was before she moved in with Solomon. When Solomon tries to explain what is happening, she tells him she doesn't mind, and only cares about him (which is totally not like Saya), and a few days later, Solomon tells her to please leave, using the excuse that he realized he could never love Saya, because she killed Diva. He lies because he knew that she would argue if he said it was because of biology, but since she is so sensitive about Diva, she accepts it without argument, handing him her wedding ring, and leaving without another word.

Later, Abram raids his apartment and is surprised to see that it really is Solomon, even though Haji told him that Solomon was a chiropteran. Solomon get's taken to the research facility. He is in the room next to Saya when she is killed, and he screams, unable to break out of the bonds he is tied up in. Suddenly, the research facility explodes. Jefferson McCoy went crazy and is destroying everything and everyone in the facility. Nathan saves him.

Nathan stumbles upon Abram just outside of the research facility. Abram tried to rescue Saya and Solomon before it blew up, realizing that they weren't evil. Jefferson is dead, as are the rest of the agents who knew about chiropterans. Abram, close to death, asks Nathan to tell him what he is, since he can sense he isn't a human. Abram reveals he never hated chiropterans, and wishes that the world could go on without fighting. He thinks that humans are flawed and that by killing the only chance for chiropterans to live on, they have sealed their fate.

Nathan says he disagrees, believing that humans are only doing what they know how to do, adding that is more humans become as enlightened as he is, he will watch them evolve into something more powerful than chiropterans, and continue. "Tell me you'll wait around until then"—Abram. Abram dies, and Nathan takes him form, promising him that he will take care of his family, since Abram had tried to save his family (Saya and Haji). Nathan becomes the new Abram Michaels, and enjoys living out the rest of his life taking care of Abram's family.

* * *

**Love me (chapter 25)**

_Say you will share with me one love, one lifetime  
Say the word and I will follow you  
Share each day with me, each night, each morning  
Say you feel the way I do  
That's all I ask of you  
Anywhere you go, let me go too  
_

_Love me, that's all I ask of you_

*Saya wakes up, having been unconscious for a month or so. Because she technically 'died' at the research facility, her mind has had time to rebuild itself, and she seems centered and assured of her chiropteran body and human heart. She can no longer sense Solomon at all, and can't remember much of what has happened over the last few months. It seems like a story to her, or like it was years and years ago. She realizes she will never be the same, and can no longer live in this human world. In her mind, she tells Solomon thank you, and I'm sorry, and goodbye, and leaves with Haji. Haji and Saya talk about the nature of chiropterans, and recognize that they can no longer live like humans (David and Julia) or like chiropterans (Solomon and Nathan). They have one final dinner with the family to celebrate the end of the mission and her recovery, and when Kai goes to fetch them in the morning, they are gone.

Note: Saya still does not realize that Nathan is alive. He asked them not to tell her, and he hid his presence when she is around.

The twins are about to go into their first hibernation. Kai and everyone else will be dead or dying by the time they wake up. Nathan comes back one final time to Okinawa to say goodbye to their family, and leaves the last container of Diva's blood with Kai. Before the Vermont research facility blew up (turns out Jefferson McCoy was so crazy he blew it up after shooting Saya), Nathan found the last two containers Diva and Saya's original, potent blood. In the end, Kai becomes Diva's chevalier, making sure that he will watch over the twins for eternity. (he tried asking Saya, but she couldn't do it to him, saying that even if it was possible to create another chevalier, she refused to turn him into hers', because his blood would be poisonous to his beloved daughters.)

* * *

**With me (chapter 26)**

_I follow the night  
Can't stand the light  
When will I begin  
To live again?  
_

_One day I'll fly away  
Leave all this to yesterday  
What more could your love do for me?  
When will love be through with me?  
Why live life from dream to dream?  
And dread the day when dreaming ends_

*Solomon is pretty much breaking down because Saya left. It's revealed that Solomon visited Okinawa just after Saya woke up from her coma, and walked right past her, but she did not even sense his presence. He understands that he made the right decision pushing her away and forcing her to choose whether it was her chiropteran instincts loving him, or her human ones. As a human, she did really love him, but it just wasn't enough. In the end, Nathan gives him the vial of Saya's original blood to kill himself. Nathan says his final farewell. Solomon stands on the top of his building and drinks it. He sees a phantom version of Saya embracing him, as his legs crystallizing him, he feels only love, and walks hand in hand with HIS Saya into the abyss.

* * *

**Let me go (chapter 27)**

_Pay my respects to grace and virtue  
Send my condolences to good  
Give my regards to soul and romance,  
They always did the best they could  
And so long to devotion  
You taught me everything I know  
Wave goodbye  
_

_Wish me well..  
_

_You've got to let me go_

*Kai's perspective, as he is praying to his father at the Miyagusuku grave. Wraps up every loose end from the previous chapters. He mentions that as Diva's chevalier, he can't sense Solomon, Saya, or Haji anymore, which means that they have all dissolved into time. (they are dead, basically). A specific timeline isn't given, but he mentions that it's the twins' third hibernation at this point, and they will be waking up soon. Everyone else that was involved in red Shield is gone, and Kai prays, thanking them all before going to wake up his daughters.

* * *

**Let me In (chapter 27)**

_It was the wicked and wild wind  
Blew down the doors to let me in  
Shattered windows and the sound of drums  
People couldn't believe what I'd become_

_Revolutionaries wait_  
_For my head on a silver plate_  
_Just a puppet on a lonely string_  
_Oh who would ever want to be king_?

*Present time: right after Solomon kills himself. Nathan/Abram meets with David jr., who suspects but can't be sure of his real identity, and tells him to give him a complete report of everything the Red Shield knows about chiropterans. "_Let me into that head of yours."—Nathan._ Nathan/Abram gives David jr. the diary from Solomon's apartment, and everything Amshel and Solomon had relating to chiropterans. Nathan/Abram threatens to kill everyone involved in the mission if he doesn't tell the truth. Nathan leaves it to David jr. to tell him how chiropterans should be recorded into history. David jr. leaves promising to tell him the truth.

* * *

**Epilogue**

(This song was what first inspired me to write this story.)

_Harsh words were said, and lies were told instead.  
I didn't ever mean to make you cry.  
But love can make us weak and make us strong.  
And before too very long.  
I was totally in love with you, I bathed in you,  
Lost in you, captivated by you,  
Amazed by you, dazed by you._

_Nothing can go wrong._  
_Nothing can go wrong._

_So tonight I'll sing a song to all my friends,_  
_Also to those we won't be seeing again._  
_To those I knew and those I still adore_,

_And I want to see once more..._  
_I just pray that you will love me and trust me,_  
_Laugh with me and cry with me,_  
_Spend those silent times with me._

_Love me evermore._  
_Love me evermore._

_You and I were lovers._  
_Our dreams were not soured by life._  
_And then my friends betrayal_  
_Meant you never would be my wife._

_Harsh words were said, and lies were told instead._  
_I didn't ever mean to make you cry._  
_But love can make us weak and make us strong._  
_And before too very long,_  
_I was totally in love with you, I bathed in you,_  
_Lost in you, captivated by you,_  
_Amazed by you, dazed by you._

_Nothing can go wrong._  
_Nothing can go wrong._

*It is just a letter explaining the nature of chiropterans and the entire history, written by David jr. He hasn't sent it yet. It mentions everything that ever happened, up until the research facility exploded. However, David jr.'s part in this chapter ends when he decides to throw it into the fireplace, along with the pictures, notes, diary's of Joel and Amshel, and everything about chiropterans.

It ends with Nathan/Abram opening a tiny letter that explains that all research was destroyed with the facility when it exploded, and that he gives his sincere regrets that he has no information. Nathan listens into the distance, and mentions hearing a young man whistling a song long since forgotten to time. He closes the case of chiropterans forever, and David jr. whistles Diva's song, but had no idea why.

The End.

* * *

A few notes for my readers:

*All of the supporting characters (except Abram and his wife, and Jefferson) names' were created by mixing around all of the characters in Family Guy, the cartoon. Look back on the previous chapters, you'll see.

*I can only write well when I am listening to the Wicked (the Broadway musical) soundtrack. Seriously.

*I never intended to have Saya's impending death to become such a drawn-out plot point. I actually only intended to use it once, to explain why Saya and Solomon would never have children. Why? I don't like children.

*The fact that I DID make it such a big deal really bothers me.

*My beta-reader is my older sister.

*I have a nasty tendency to insert things into my story, just because someone leaves a nasty review telling me not to. Haha I am one of those people.

*I am actually a giant SolomonXSaya fan, even though it ends with Haji and Saya together.

*I started this story when Twilight was just beginning to get very popular. Even though I am really not a big fan, I got really irritated when people talked bad about Bella just because she had a hard time choosing between Jacob and Edward. So I initially wrote this plot to show people exactly why choosing between two people that love you can be so difficult. If any of you here have read Twilight, and didn't see the similarities—SHAME ON YOU!

*Finally, I wrote this story because I wanted to finish off the anime completely, because I was not satisfied with the ending in the anime. I tried to make it realistic, which is why I feel so bad about not finishing it.

Thank you all for accompanying me this far. I am so sorry for not updating often, and for not finishing. I love this story, and the series it was based on. I plan on writing more Blood+ fanfiction in the future. Please be on the lookout for it. Someday. Also, please pray for my mother. Please.

If any of you have any questions, or wish to discuss anything, please shoot me an email or a review. I would love that actually.

Thank you for an amazing journey,

Julia

_(evening pen)_


End file.
